


A Tale As Old As Time

by pottermum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 58,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pottermum/pseuds/pottermum
Summary: My take on Beauty and the Beast  AU Fairy tale. Our Beauty is fiery and passionate, yet tainted by the dark magic that has surrounded her since her first year. Our Beast has also touched by the darkness, so fled to solitude, cursed by a dark witch. Outside forces will bring these two together. Let the magic begin.





	1. An Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> I own none of the characters mentioned in this story, and there will be a lot. See how many you recognise! The graphics warning is for chapter two, thats as bad as it gets.

Readers...Be My Guest. 

 

Tale as old as time  
True as it can be  
Barely even friends,  
Then somebody bends  
Unexpectedly. 

Who doesn't like a fairy tale? Stories of dragons and giants, of mermaids and fairies, of witches and wizards, of princesses and heroes. 

Of magic. 

And true love. 

Love, of course, is a magic all of its own. Every love story is unique – locked in a castle, living with dwarves, or ugly stepsisters. Of balls and pretty dresses. Of friends and family.

Of dreaming of happy ever afters.

This story, though, is different. Our Beauty isn't a princess waiting to be rescued. Yes, she's a witch- a good witch who has been tainted by dark magic. A young witch, still struggling with the after effects of a war, and her actions in that war that still haunt her dreams at night. 

Our Beast is in seclusion. He has been scarred, literally and figuratively, by dark magic, the darkest kind. He was lauded a hero, a saviour, but the price was too high. He locked himself away, vowing never to let anyone get close to him again, for fear they too, would leave him. 

And the curse that the dark witch placed upon him increases every year. 

Outside forces will bring them together. She, stubborn and fiery. He, resigned to a life of solitude.

Want to know more? 

Scroll down, press 'next', read on. 

Because the best part of a happy ever after is the journey getting there. 

 

Just a little change  
Small to say the least  
Both a little scared  
Neither one prepared  
Beauty and the Beast. 

 

Chapter One

Once upon a time...


	2. Ginny

Ginny sat staring determinedly in front of her. She was trying desperately to ignore her coach, Gwenog Jones, who was pacing nervously. 

“ Merlin, what is taking so long? It happened, you publicly apologised, and we're prepared for you to cop a suspension. They've been in there for over a bloody hour,” growled Gwenog. 

Ginny was trying to not hear Gwenog, but her voice was rising as she spoke. Ginny winced, well aware that the longer they were waiting outside for the verdict, the worse it was going to be. 

“ Judgemental bastards...wouldn't be dragging this out if it were Oliver Wood...course, the blokes don't have the photographers following them around like my girls do...unfair...effin discrimination, that's what it is,” muttered Gwenog. She started when the door opened, and Mr Hopgood, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports stood in the doorway. 

“ Ms Jones, Miss Weasley,” he gestured, for them to follow him into the office. His face gave nothing away, but Ginny felt his eyes on her as she slid past him.

To their surprise, there was no-one else in the office. Both Ginny and Gwenog sat on seats opposite his desk. 

Mr Hopgood looked down at the papers in front of him, then over his spectacles at Ginny. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. 

“ Miss Weasley, this is not the first time this season that you've been called into this office for an infraction. Most disappointing for one that has gathered quite a cult following at such an early stage in your career,” he said gravely. 

Ginny hadn't intended to say anything, but Gwenog's fake cough demanded she say something. “Yes sir, sorry.” 'Bite me, you pompous ass', was what she really wanted to say. 

“ Your popularity has ensured your transgression has stayed very public since last Saturday's match. The Daily Prophet is continually rehashing it, and the Quidditch show on the wireless has dedicated quite a bit of their show this week discussing it. Should you be punished, or do you simply play the game hard? It has all the fans divided. However, this is not what we here at the Department of Magical Games and Sports want the fans to be talking about.” 

“ I know, Mr Hopgood,” nodded Ginny. Gwenog looked at her in approval. 

“ Before I tell you what we've decided to do, is there anything you'd like to say?” asked Mr Hopgood. 

Ginny hadn't prepared anything, but she decided to speak from the heart. “ Sir, I love Quidditch, and I'm proud to play for the Harpies. I will,” – reluctantly – “ admit, during a very hard fought and tight game, that I overreacted at something that Harper said to me, and even after the match, when he continued,” – in a blatant show of bad sportmanship – “ I should have been able to walk away, but I let my emotions overrule me and I hexed him. I admit I was caught up in the thrill of victory, but I should have had the sense to simply shake his hand and walk away.” Until he started making suggestions about my mother and the things she could do with her broom. “I'm sorry that so many young fans were close enough to hear the things we said to each other. I have made a public apology on the wireless, and the Harpies released a statement that was printed in the paper.” 

“ If I may?” asked Gwenog, before Mr Hopgood could speak. He looked at her and nodded. “ If the Department agrees, Ginny is prepared to do community service, perhaps some coaching clinics with the children? The press would be invited, of course,” said Gwenog. 

“ Hmmm.” Mr Hopgood rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then sighed. 

“ While that does sound like a sound idea, I'm afraid I'm going to go along with the suggestion that a panel of us decided on. Miss Weasley must be shown to be punished for bringing the game into disrepute.” 

“ She could pay a fine, to go to the charity of Harper's choice,” suggested Gwenog. 

“ Miss Weasley, one of the people we spoke to in reaching our decision was a mind healer, someone who you have spoken to in the past.” 

Ginny stiffened. 

“ Healer Flynn seems to think your outbursts, physical, magical and verbal, stem from a possible Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Miss Weasley, your actions during the final battle were well documented, not to mention a certain incident in your first year.” 

'Shut up, shut up, shut up' chanted Ginny in her mind.

“ Our player's welfare is our most primary concern, as well as the image each and every one contributes to our wonderful game of Quidditch. We feel that it is in Miss Weasley's best interest to take a break from the game, to get the help the healer feels she needs. It will, however, be considered a suspension for her actions in last week's match against the Ballycastle Bats, but the important thing is that she gets better.” Mr Hopgood folded his hands on the desk and smiled patronisingly. 

“ What complete and utter bullshit,” snarled Ginny, jumping to her feet. “ There's absolutely nothing wrong with me. I play the game hard, and if Harper is such a pussy that he can't handle it, then he shouldn't be playing professionally. Send him to the States, I think Quadpot is more his style! Hopefully, the bloody thing will explode in his face!” 

“ Miss Weasley!” cried Mr Hopgood, startled. 

“ Ginny!” warned Gwenog. 

“ This is all just a boy's club mentality.” She pointed at Mr Hopgood, who watched her with his mouth ajar. “ You can't handle a girl being tougher than a guy. Hell, even my brother's said I went too far, but if they knew what he said about our mother, they would have been even worse,” she said. 

“ Enough!” exclaimed Mr Hopgood. He took out his handkerchief and mopped his sweaty brow. “ I think you've clearly shown to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown. I agree with Healer Flynn. You are suspended, without pay, for the next six weeks. During this time, you will work with Healer Flynn, in whatever capacity he deems best.” 

“Six weeks!” screeched Ginny and Gwenog, who jumped out of her chair to stand next to Ginny.

“ It's six weeks till the finals. You're costing me one of my best players, and possibly the Harpies chance of taking the title – again,” snarled Gwenog. 

“ Miss Weasley is only one player,” soothed Mr Hopgood, “and surely her mental health is more important than anything.” 

“ Please, don't penalise the team just because of my behaviour,” pleaded Ginny. “ I promise to get all the help you think I need, once the season is over. I'll do whatever the stupid mind healer thinks I need to do, just please, let me play.” 

“ I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, my decision is final. The announcement has already been released to the Daily Prophet. You will miss the next six matches and you will be reviewed after that before we let you return. If Healer Flynn feels you need more time, well...” He mopped his sweaty brow again. 

“ So it didn't matter what I had to say here, the decision was already made,” retorted Ginny, angrily. 

“ We'll appeal,” said Gwenog. “ You'll be hearing from our lawyers. Come on, Ginny.” She grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her along. 

“ Miss Weasley?” 

Ginny stopped and looked back at him. “ We're doing this for your own good, you know.” He looked at her paternally.

“ You don't even know me,” spat Ginny, “ so spare me the platitudes.” 

“ Good day, Ms Jones, Miss Weasley,” he replied. 

“ Yeah, well, fu-” Gwenog dragged Ginny out before she could finish her farewell. Both witches breathed heavily as the door shut behind them. 

“ Look, if they've already released a statement to the press, the reporters are probably waiting downstairs, and in the mood we're in, I don't think we need to make matters worse. Go to the Auror office, see if your brother's there and will let you use their Floo. Go home and wait to hear from us. I mean it, Weasley. Stay out of sight, do not, I repeat, do NOT speak to any reporters about anything, understand?” 

“ Right. So, I'll here from you soon?” asked Ginny. “ About the appeal, I mean?” 

Gwenog nodded. “ We'll have you back in the green and gold for this week's match against Appleby.” 

Ginny sighed in relief, and went to find her brother, Ron. 

/*/*/*/*

She stared defiantly at the healer. He stared impassively back at her. 

“ We can do this all day if we have to. This is my job. I would have thought you would want to co-operate to get back to yours,” he said easily. 

“ There's nothing wrong with me. I'm a red head, we're known for having tempers,” said Ginny, tossing her long locks over her shoulder. 

“ How have you liked being back under your parent's roof?” asked the healer, his quill poised over the parchment that filled her file. A file created after her first year. 

Ginny hated it, it made her feel like she was twelve, thirteen again. “ It's okay,” she lied, shrugging. 

“ I'm sure your mother is happy to have you home,” he stated. 

Happy. Ecstatic. Mothering her to the point of smothering her. “ Yes, she is.” 

Healer Flynn sighed. “ Ginny, you've been coming to see me daily for the last week, and you've given me nothing.” 

“ That's because there's nothing wrong with me,” protested Ginny, looking away. A week without Quidditch – she was going stir crazy, but she didn't think it prudent to say 'crazy' to a mind healer. 

“ Let's talk about your first year at Hogwarts,” suggested the healer. 

“ This, again. Look, I'll tell you now the same thing I told you back then. I am fine. I don't need to talk about that time in my life, all I want to do is play Quidditch.” 

“ What about the battle of Hogwarts? Bell –” 

“ No! I'm not discussing any of that. It's in the past.” Ginny spoke through gritted teeth. 

“ On the contrary, I think you still carry it around with you today.” 

Ginny crossed her arms. “ It seems we're at an impasse, then.” She arched an eyebrow in challenge.

Healer Flynn looked through his paperwork. “ Ginny, have you ever lived alone?” 

Ginny looked surprised at the change in topic. “ Erm, no. Why?” 

“ Large family, dorm mates at Hogwarts, then at the Harpies compound in Holyhead. You've never really been alone, have you?” asked the healer, rhetorically. 

Ginny pictured a small girl, alone, writing in a diary. Tom, her only friend. She did not comment. “It's possible to feel alone in a crowd,” she said softly. 

The healer eyed her sharply, then his gaze softened. “Ginny, you can go for today,” said the healer. 

“ Already?” asked Ginny, surprised. They'd only started their session ten minutes ago.

Healer Flynn scribbled a note. “ I'll see you tomorrow, same time,” he said, dismissively. 

“ Yeah, sure...bye,” said a confused Ginny. She quickly left, feeling reprieved. 

Healer Flynn debated on what to do about Ginny. He decided to write a letter. If the recipient declined, then the decision would be out of his hands. But if the recipient agreed, Ginny Weasley would be going on a trip. A trip that could change her life.

As the owl soared off, with his letter in it's clutches, Healer Flynn hoped the result would be positive. In his professional opinion, Ginny Weasley was heading for a possible breakdown, until she dealt with her past. Something the recipient of his letter knew all about. 

/*/*/*/*

“ You're sending me where?” shrieked Ginny, the next day, once Healer Flynn told her the change to her suspension. 

“ Fogsworth Island,” he replied calmly.

Ginny gulped. “ I didn't even realise it was a real place.” 

“ You've heard about it then,” asked the healer, interestedly. 

Ginny nodded. “ Ever since I was a little girl. I was told it was a small island, where powerful wizards lived. Powerful dark wizards that brewed horrible potions and practiced dark magic. No-one knows where it is. Not exactly a holiday destination,” she quipped. 

“ Good thing you're not going for a holiday then,” returned the healer, smiling. “ It is a small island to the north. It has a small town, with a declining population. They are a proud people, but are always welcoming to visitors.” 

“ How will I get there?” asked Ginny. 

“ You'll be arriving by Portkey. I wrote to the Island's mayor, informing him of your reason for staying. He has agreed to your visit, and asks to meet you upon your arrival. Seems your reputation has reached the island. He wants no upheavel from you, or you'll be forced to leave straight away. In a nutshell, you leave them alone, and they'll leave you alone. Understand?” 

“ Do I have a choice?” asked Ginny, wryly. 

“ Of course. You can start opening up in our counselling sessions,” prompted the healer. 

Ginny said nothing. 

“ You'll be staying in a small cottage, close to a castle. The owner is a former client of mine, and he has agreed to let you stay there at no charge. His house elf will see to your basic needs, but under no circumstance are you to go to the castle or seek the owner out. This was made quite clear to me to pass on to you. My former client values his privacy immensely. Do you understand?” asked the healer. 

“ Yes!” said Ginny, rolling her eyes. “Am I allowed to visit the town? How far away is the castle from the town?” she asked. There was no way she could stay in a small cottage by herself for weeks on end.

“ Your day is pretty much your own. I'll be sending you a task to complete every now and then. How well you do in these tasks will determine when you can return to the Harpies,” said the healer. 

“ Tasks? What sort of tasks?” asked Ginny. 

Healer Flynn shrugged. “ You'll find out soon enough,” he teased. 

“ When do I leave? Today is Friday, what do I need to take?” asked Ginny, planning to ask Luna to accompany her on a shopping spree. 

“ Just this Portkey,” said the healer, handing it to her. 

She leaned over to take it. “ But when does it -ahhhhhh.” 

She felt the pull of the Portkey. “ Blooooddddyy helllll – ” The rest of her words were lost as she spun towards her destination. 

She landed with a thud. “ Ugh,” she said, the wind knocked out of her. She took a few deep breaths, then slowly stood. 

She was on a beach. The late afternoon sun tried to peek at her through the thick fog that gave the island it's name. She looked out over the calm, cerulean blue water. “Oh,” she breathed. It was picturesque.

She chanced a look around. The golden sand she was standing on went metres behind her. A path led to a set of concrete stairs that spiralled to the imposing castle. She supposed the cottage must be close, so she headed for the path. 

As she climbed the many stairs leading to the castle, she chanced a look at it. It reminded her of Hogwarts, with it's many towers and turrets. Ginny shivered, both because of the sudden coolness and with the many bad memories of her last days at Hogwarts. This castle looked run down, like Hogwarts after the battle, and she wondered what it had looked like in its glory days. 

As she made her way up the stairs, she saw bushes that were dying or had already died. The whole area screamed of neglect; barren and dry. This place matched her grey mood. 

She came to a landing and saw the cottage immediately. She made her way over to it, only to find it was locked. 

POP “ Dobby is sorry to keep miss waiting. Please go inside. Dobby will accompany you,” said a small house elf. “Your personal items arrived moments ago.”

Ginny tried to smile at the small elf. She had a new respect for house elves after they had helped her and her fellow students in the year of hell at Hogwarts. Never would she disrespect a house elf. “Hello, Dobby.”

Dobby clicked his fingers and the door opened. He gestured for Ginny to go in, and he followed her nervously, wringing his hands. “ Dobby did clean the cottage for your arrival. I hope it meets with miss's approval.” 

Ginny walked in and around. It really was small, simply a kitchenette, a lounge, a bathroom and a bedroom. It was all she needed. “ It's fine, thanks Dobby. Please, call me Ginny.”

Dobby eyed the newcomer; he'd hoped for more enthusiasm. “ Dobby will come to clean your cottage every day at eleven and can even bring you your meals. If Miss Ginny needs Dobby, you just need to call Dobby's name. If master has no need of me, Dobby will come straight away.” 

“ Who is your master?” asked Ginny, curiously. She opened a window to let some fresh air in. The grey fog stretched endlessly in the sky. 

 

Dobby shifted uncomfortably. “ Master does like his privacy. If Miss Ginny has no further need of Dobby, Dobby must go.” 

“ Oh, yeah, sure. Thanks, Dobby. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at eleven,” said Ginny, dully. 

“ Yes, miss. Goodbye.” With a pop the elf disappeared. 

Ginny checked the fully stocked kitchen, then went into the bedroom to find her clothes were all in the closet and drawers. She decided to have a quick shower and get changed into shorts and a tee shirt then go exploring. There wasn't much else to do. 

Up in the castle, Dobby prepared an afternoon snack for his master. As he appeared in the master's workshop, he looked around for him, but couldn't find him. Usually he was at the bench, stirring a cauldron or chopping up potion ingredients. Sometimes he'd be writing notes or consulting books. 

Dobby placed the tray on the bench and went to find his master. It didn't take long. 

He was looking out the window, his back to Dobby. “ She's here?” 

“ Yes, master,” said Dobby. He wished he could see his master's face, to know what sort of mood he was in. By the sound of his voice, he was in a melancholy mood. 

“ The cottage was to her liking?” 

“ She seemed to find it satisfactory, although she seemed a bit down. Miss Ginny was very nice to Dobby. Perhaps she could – ” 

“ No! I know what you are going to say, Dobby, but the answer is no.” 

Dobby saw him adjust his cloak to cover his face, and sighed. “ As you wish, master.” 

Dobby saw his master turn, so his face was in profile. His green eyes glittered in the candlelight. “When you visit her tomorrow, you are to remind her that the castle is off limits. Make sure she understands, Dobby. No visits.” 

“ Dobby will do as master wishes, but Dobby thinks it would be good for the master to have someone his own age to talk to. To bring news from London. To – ” 

“ Dobby! Enough,” said the master, harshly. “ I don't care what happens in London, I left that world five years ago. You will do as I say, or I will get another house elf,” he warned. 

“ Dobby will do as master wishes,” repeated Dobby sadly. 

“ Good. Now, please go to the greenhouse and get me some more Aconite.Remember to use caution, it's leaves are quite toxic. I'll also need some Valerian root.”

“ Yes, master.” Dobby disappeared immediately, not wanting to upset his master further. 

His master turned back to look out the window, down at the cottage below. He could see her come out the cottage, and simply look around. She had a trim figure, but it was her long tresses that caught his eye. Reds and golds mingled together, and as he watched, she ran her fingers through it and twisted it up atop her head, settling it there with her wand. 

She stilled, then turned around. She tilted her head and seemed to look up at the very spot he was standing. He took a step to the left, hiding behind the heavy drapes, but still affording him a spot to see her. 

He felt foolish. Of course she couldn't see him, nor would she want to. He ran his fingers over his scarred face, then adjusted the cloak again. 

They called him a beast. When he'd first come to the island, he'd ventured to the village, wanting to know more about the place he'd decided to call home. People had cringed away from him, and children had run off screaming. The scars were still fresh then, and he hated seeing them in the mirror each morning, so he couldn't blame the towns people. Before too long, he decided it would be easier for everybody if he simply sent Dobby to town for any of his needs, and he remained in the castle most of the time. When he did venture out, he was heavily cloaked, and rarely showed his face. Rumour had it that he visited the ladies of the night down Knobblers Lane from time to time. Those witches, used to keeping all sorts of secrets in their trade, confirmed nothing. 

He looked back out the window. She had gone back inside and for some reason he felt bereft. 

He wondered briefly what it would be like to talk to her. Then dismissing the idea, for what could they possibly have to talk about, he returned to his afternoon tea, and back to his work. 

He gave her no more thought.


	3. Meetings

Ginny walked down to the beach. It had taken her all of five minutes to look over the cottage, then another five to shower and change. She walked outside briefly then felt someone watching her. Shielding her eyes, she looked up at the castle, unsure if she saw a curtain moving. She went back inside, where she found a note had appeared on her bed, letting her know she had an appointment with the town's mayor the next morning at ten, so she had decided there was no point in heading to the town today. Instead she lay down and fell asleep for hours, even missing Dobby's reapperance with some tea. After she ate it, she wandered down to the beach to think. 

Already she was getting itchy feet, longing to do something, anything physical. She closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky. The fog was oppressive. She wished she had her broom with her as it would have been nice to fly it leisurely over the sand. She wondered how she was supposed to maintain her fitness level without a broom to ride. She would have to jog daily, and despite her hatred for them, knew she would be doing a lot of stair runs the next few weeks. 

Ginny thought of her family. They were disappointed that her reputation had been tarnished with her suspension, but they'd been supportive of her, as always. Her mum and dad had simply asked her if there was more to her attack on Harper, and she had told them no. Her mum said no more, although her father's gaze lingered on her for longer than Ginny was comfortable with. She'd never been able to fool her dad. 

Ginny sighed, running the sand through her fingers. Okay, so she'd been through a lot, seen a lot, in her Hogwarts days. Still, after the events of her first year, her brothers had done a complete one eighty and had hovered relentlessly. From ignoring her to smothering her with concern, Ginny quickly learned that a fake smile and an “I'm okay,” got her off their radar. Yeah, like being possessed by the darkest wizard of their time was something one got over in a summer holiday. It was the first time Ginny felt different to her family. She knew something none of them ever would. 

She'd returned to Hogwarts for her second year, determined not to let her first year define her. She made a huge effort to make friends with her school mates, and in her third year, agreed to go to the Yule Ball with Neville, which greatly excited her mother. 

She made reserve on the Quidditch team her fourth year, and actually made it to a game when Katie Bell, their Seeker, became ill. Although she preffered Chaser, she threw herself into her new role, and caught the Snitch to win the game. 

Fifth year was the year she found herself with a boyfriend, a boyfriend who was on the run the following year due to his blood status. She felt relief when he turned up at the final battle, but realised any feelings she thought might have been love for Dean Thomas had gone. To her relief, he felt the same, and they parted as friends. 

She returned to Hogwarts for her seventh and final year, now the only Weasley at the school. She'd studied hard and managed to obtain nine NEWTS and the attention of the Harpies scouts. She happily accepted the offer to try out and again when they offered her a spot. She had never looked back. 

All of the above sounds wonderful...if it were all true. Still, it's what her parents believed to be true, and at the time and even now, that was what mattered. 

The truth was, Ginny never really got over what happened to her in her first year. Returning to the Burrow, her parents were always watching; hovering. Her brothers, always indifferent to their little sister, now annoyed her greatly. “Hey, Gin, whatcha doing? What are you reading? What are you doing, why are you sitting out on that ledge? Why are you up in the attic?”

She had gone there for some solitude, something that was rare for her now. She wanted to scream at them. Leave me be! 

Miraculously, her father won some lottery at the Ministry, and took the family to Egypt to see Bill. It helped Ginny some, for Bill was her favourite brother, and instead of pressuring her to talk, he simply asked if she wanted to; giving her the choice. It was a refreshing change. 

Alas, all too soon it was time to return to Hogwarts. She tried to pretend she didn't hear her parents telling her brothers over and over to watch out for her. They all swore they would, something they'd forgotten as soon as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

Ginny found Luna Lovegood, who was sharing a cabin with Neville Longbottom. They exchanged pleasantries then Luna and Neville returned to their discussions on the Gurdyroot. Ginny curled up in a corner, reading that day's Daily Prophet, and how the hunt was still on for Sirius Black, a recent escapee from Azkaban. 

She'd fallen asleep, only to waken as the train slowed. “Are we there already?” she asked, stretching. 

“No,” said Neville in concern. 

Suddenly a coldness came over the room. Something dark glided past. “What was that?” asked Luna, for Ginny could not talk. 

She fell to the floor. “You're mine, Ginevra. You share my mind and my powers. You belong to me.”

“No,” whimpered eleven year old Ginny clutching the diary. “I don't want any of that. I never did.” 

“Then I have no choice but to kill you. Avada Kedavra.” 

“Noooo,” yelled Ginny as a green jet of light headed straight for her. 

“Ginny. Ginny, wake up!” urged Neville. Ginny fluttered her eyes open, surprised to see Luna peering over Neville's shoulders, another man watching her worriedly. A group of her class mates looked on from the doorway. 

“Here, give her some chocolate, it will help her recover. I have to go see about the other students.” The man handed Neville some chocolate, which he handed to Ginny. 

“Professor Lupin, our new DADA teacher,” explained Neville. 

Ginny nodded, and with Luna's help, sat back up on the seat. 

“All right, show's over,” said Neville, shooing everyone else away. Ginny noted that none of her brothers had come to check on her.

It wasn't the start to the new school year she had wanted. The whispers started up again, as did the rumours. She ignored them all, holding her head up high. Fuck them all, for not giving a twelve year old a second chance. 

She alternated between burying herself in her studies, and walking around the grounds of the castle. Hagrid always had something interesting to show her, and Luna had taken her along to feed the Thestrals, although Ginny could not see them. Sometimes Ginny joined Neville in the greenhouses. He was a font of knowledge about plants, and happy to help with her Herbology homework. She genuinely liked both Luna and Neville, and found it amusing that the three misfits, for Neville still didn't know why he was in Gryffindor, formed a friendship.

It was true that she went to the Yule Ball with Neville, but she detested the stupid way the girls were acting. Fussing over hairstyles, worrying over dresses and dates. Giggling over Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood. Then it occurred to her that maybe they were acting normal, and she was the one out of sync. Maybe there was just a big difference in being twelve as opposed to thirteen or fourteen. 

She did love Quidditch; had always loved flying. Making the team gave her pride in herself, and something to really look forward to. She had always felt the academic path was not hers to take, despite how well she was doing in class. Unbidden came to her mind of sometimes how easily she leanrnt a new spell, or how similar a potion's recipe seemed to her. Then would come days of doubts of whether she had truly left him behind when the diary had been destroyed. It was an endless cycle of doubts and hopes.

With stories of Voldemort returning, and Ginny's family's close involvement, she pondered the seemingly oblivious students around her. Did they not think to worry about other things besides how Dean Thomas had shot up a foot over the summer, or how Millicent Bullstrode had dropped a lot of weight and was rivalling Daphne Greengrass for the title of Slytherin Beauty? Of course, gaining two cup sizes in her bra wasn't hurting her chances either. 

Even her brother Ron seemed clueless, despite being there with her at Grimmauld Place for the summer. Seems he'd rather moon over photos that Lavender Brown had sent him, than listen on the Extendable Ears at the meeting that was going on downstairs. Ginny joined the twins, hearing the names Padfoot and Moony mentioned. Then she heard a young man's voice, and someone agreed with him. “We believe you, Harry,” they said. 

Ginny was stunned. There was only one Harry this could possibly be. 

“Blimey, do you really think -” began Fred.

“- that Harry Potter himself,” continued George. 

“- is in there right now?” the finished in unison. They looked at each other, and then at Ginny. 

She nodded. “It has to be him.”

They waited and waited, but he never came out. Instead, their mother came out, shutting the door firmly behind her. “Ginny, I'll need some help in the kitchen. Fred, George -” she called.

“Sorry, Mum, got to go, pranks to make, you know,” they said, before Disapparating back to their room. 

Ginny was closest to the twins these days, with Percy working at the Ministry, and Ron drooling over photos of Lavender in her swimsuit and taking extraordinarily long showers. So she felt the keenest loss, when one day at Hogwarts, during exams, no less, they announced spectacularly that they were leaving. To this day, Filch cursed the Weasley twins for the swamp they'd left in the foyer of the castle. 

With Tom's followers attacking a number of high profile areas over the holidays, Ginny returned to Hogwarts for her sixth year, sensing a need to be prepared. She wished Professor Lupin was still teaching DADA, but he had left, after Professor Snape had revealed his secret. Despite being shocked that her favourite teacher had been a werewolf, Ginny had never felt in danger with him, which only led to her confusion in whether she was comfortable around dark people and dark magic. Her Bat Bogey hex, her trademark, was still a hex, and therefore, a dark curse. And something she had managed to keep secret all these years, was that she still retained the ability to speak Parseltongue. 

When Dumbledore had been killed at the Ministry of Magic during a duel with Tom (for she would never call him Voldemort), and talk that Sirius Black had fought with their headmaster but disappeared through a veil, she knew their lives would never be the same again. Their great leader had been killed, although Ginny certainly felt ambivalent about that title. She certainly felt he could have helped her more during her first year, despite finally being the one to destroy the diary.

To her shock, she realised she now had Tom's followers teaching at the school. There was no more Defense Against the Dark Arts, instead, they had Dark Arts training, where they were instructed to curse their fellow students. Ginny refused time and time again, preferring to take the Cruciatus Curse herself. 

One day, however, as she gritted her teeth to endure the pain, she wandlessly summoned her wand. Drunk in the power of inflicting pain, her tormentor, Alecto Carrow, did not even notice. 

Summoning all her remaining strength, Ginny rolled out of line of the curse. “Expelliarmus,” she called shakily, making him lose his wand. 

“What the bleeding hell,” he cried, looking at his now empty hand. He looked at her as she now stood. “Why you,” he growled, heading for her, his hands ready to wring her neck.

“You miserable excuse for a human, Crucio,” she called, putting all her hate into the spell. 

She heard him whisper in her ear, and felt him as though he were standing right next to her. “You have to mean it,” he said approvingly. 

Ginny flung her wand down in horror. Looking up, she saw her classmates looking at her, some in approval, some in shock. She had to get away from them all. As Carrow writhed on the ground, she couldn't resist one last attack. “Prick,” she cried, kicking him in the groin, before grabbing her wand and bag and running out to the bathroom. She stayed in the Chamber of Secrets for the rest of the day, ignoring Myrtle's constant badgering.

She'd expected summons to the headmaster's office but none came. Tentatively, she crept back to the Gryffindor common room, not knowing what to expect. 

“She's here...she's back,” she heard the calls, and then she heard the sound of footsteps running down from the dorms. Soon, all of Gryffindor tower were in front of her, watching...waiting. 

Ginny gulped, not knowing what to say. “I'm...sorry?”

Seamus hooted. “Sorry? It was brilliant, bloody brilliant, and I wasn't even there.”

“Good on you, Ginny,” someone cried out. 

“Kick him again for me, next time,” called out Colin, a Muggleborn in her year. He had been attacked by the Carrows multiple times. 

“But – I performed an Unforgivable curse,” said Ginny, surprised. “I-I thought you'd hate me, be disgusted by me,” she admitted. “I thought I'd be hauled off to Snape's office by now, truth to tell.”

“What for?” asked Demelza, grinning mischievously. “We saw nothing.”

“What?” asked Ginny, looking around. Her classmates smiled at her. 

Hermione Granger stepped forward, her head girl badge incredibly shiny. “Ginny, Richie was able to come and find me quickly. I-I Obliviated Carrow. He has no idea he was under the Cruciatus,” she said. 

“And we're not going to tell,” called Colin. The rest of her Gryffindor classmates nodded in agreement. 

“Nor will the Ravenclaws,” said Luna, appearing at Ginny's side and taking her hand. 

“Luna, how did you get in here again?” asked Hermione, exasperated. She turned back to Ginny. “Look, while I understand what you did, I don't like being put in the position of doing what I did. Please make sure it doesn't happen again,” she said. 

Ginny lifted her chin defensively. “No-one asked you to. I knew I'd have to have to cop the punishment for what I did.”

“Ginny, the punishment for an Unforgivable Curse is life in Azkaban,” cried Hermione. 

“I'd escape. Sirius Black did it, and so can I,” she stated defiantly. 

“And what, live a life on the run, always looking over you shoulder? What would that do to your family?” asked Hermione, pointedly. 

“Just leave me alone,” said Ginny, tiredly. “I'm going to bed.” 

“Goodnight Ginny,” waved Luna, squeezing her hand before she left the common room to return to her own. 

Ginny moved around everyone to head to the stairs. As she was about to head up to the girls rooms, she came face to face with Neville. His face was tight as he looked at her. 

“That curse you used...it was the same curse Bellatrix Lestrange used on my parents,” he stated calmly. Too calmly. 

Ginny swallowed, the thought of what she had done suddenly having consequences. “I'm sorry about your parents,” she said miserably, knowing how their torture had changed Neville's life forever. “But I'd do it again if I had to,” she added fiercely, knowing it was true. “If it were my family, Luna...you.” 

To her surprise, he hugged her. “I don't want to lose you, too,” he mumbled against her shoulder. 

With tears in her eyes, she patted his back. “I'm not going anywhere,” she promised him. 

/*/*/*/*

Neville, Luna and Ginny had met after the final battle, tired, hurt, relieved and mostly still running on adrenaline. They stood on the top of the Astronomy Tower, looking over the destroyed grounds of Hogwarts. Without thinking about it, Neville grabbed one of Ginny's hands and one of Luna's, squeezing tightly. “It's over,” he said. “I'm glad we're all here, together.” 

“We all still have so many more things to do in this life,” said Luna calmly. 

“I can't believe Harry Potter did it,” said Ginny dazedly. He had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and he and Tom had faced off, before Harry had won.

“I thought he'd be taller,” mused Luna, “I'm sure Daddy said he was seven feet tall or something.”

“Couldn't you feel his power when he cast the last spell?” asked Neville, rhetorically. 

Ginny nodded. She had felt them both; Tom and Harry. Both carried the darkness in them that she recognised, but it was Harry's light that had made his last spell more powerful than anything Tom could cast in his weakened state. She'd heard her father mention Horcruxes, and made a mental note to ask him about them. Later. 

For now she had a brother to bury and friends to mourn. Fred, Colin, Elizabeth, the girl she'd found outside on the grounds, and stayed with as she took her last breaths. She'd heard rumours that Professor Lupin had been seen on the grounds earlier, but was missing, feared dead. Another death. Too many more. 

Ginny returned to the present, wiping her streaming eyes. She noticed the magnificent sunset over the darkening waters, where the fog didn't reach, and tried to find some peace. She closed her eyes, laying down and breathing deeply. It helped her to clear her mind for now. For she knew she would never forget the horrors of that night, of the things she'd seen, the things she'd done. If only there was a way to find peace. 

/*/*/*/*

The boa constrictor silently entered the room, flicking it's tongue to hone it's destination. It's huge body seemed to move slowly, but it had reached it's target within seconds. 

“Hello, Asim,” he greeted in Parseltongue. He had his back to her, hunched over his desk as usual.

“Massssster,” she replied, gliding easily over his boot and coiling herself around his leg. 

He dropped his hand to pat her her head, and glide his hand over her scaly body. If she had been a cat she would surely have purred. 

“I ssssssaw her,” informed Asim, moving up his body. 

He tensed. “It'ssss no conccccern of mine,” he said gruffly. 

“She ssssseeemed sssssad,” said the snake, it's tongue flicking out to touch his cheek. 

“We all carry burdens, my friend,” he replied. 

The door opened, and Dobby came in, hesitant when he saw the huge snake wrapped around Harry, her head seemingly resting on his master's shoulder. 

“What is it, Dobby?” he sighed. 

“Begging your pardon, master, but you must be coming with Dobby right now. Dobby cannot help her, it must be you, master,” said an anxious Dobby. 

“What are you waffling about, Dobby. Spit it out,” said his master, in a tense tone. 

“It's her! She's in danger,” cried Dobby, pointing out the window. 

Since there was only one her around this way lately, he knew exactly who Dobby meant. “How? Damnit it, Dobby, how is she in trouble?” 

Still carrying the huge snake, he stormed over to his house elf. 

Dobby gulped nervously, keeping an eye on the snake. “Miss G-Ginny, she is down at the s-sea..and the t-tide is coming in,” he stammered. 

“So?” he asked, confused. 

“She is not moving, master. It's as if she wants the water to carry her away,” explained Dobby. 

His eyes grew large as he understood what Dobby had been trying to say. “Merlin!” he grabbed his cloak and swung it over his shoulders, making sure his face was covered. Despite it now being twilight, he wasn't taking any chances. 

/*/*/*/*

Ginny lay spreadeagled, feeling the water lapping at her toes, then her legs. Each time the tide came back it carried up her body a little bit higher. 

She didn't care that her clothes were getting wet, or that she was lying here, in the near dark. She figured she must have lain there for well over an hour, as darkness was close to taking over the island on her first night here. 

The water tickled her shoulders and back, and the ends of her hair. The next time it washed over her neck, and more of her hair. She counted, then closed her eyes, just as the next wave washed over her face, wetting all her hair. When the water receded, she giggled. She gave herself one last baptism, then she'd go in. 

She counted and waited, but as the wave washed over her, she felt rough hands pull at her shoulders, trying to lift her up. She defensively batted the hands away, feeling a sense of satisfaction when one of her fists met soft flesh, and she heard an indrawn breath of pain. 

Instictively she curled into a ball, rolling away. She heard someone curse, and reach for her again. 

It was a man, judging by his large hands and deep voice. “I'm trying to help you,” he muttered, standing over her. He reached down to grab her somewhere, anywhere, and only managed to grab the two parts that let him know she was definitely female. 

When she felt his hands on her breasts, Ginny kicked out. She aimed for his groin, and while she didn't make contact there, she got close enough to make him cry out. “Fuck!” he yelled, clutching his thigh. 

“Don't you touch me,” she yelled, reaching for her wand as, again, she rolled away. It lay in the sand, a metre away from her. 

“Whatever you've been through, it's not worth killing yourself for. Trust me, I know,” he said, breathing through the pain. 

Ginny wiggled closer to the wand, before the darkness of the night totally took over. “What do you mean, kill myself. I wasn't trying to,” she said defensively. 

“She'sssss going for her wand.”

Ginny froze at the snake language, even more so when he replied. “I know, Assssim.”

“Who are you? What do you want with me?” she demanded, finally reaching her wand. She rolled back to face him. “Protego!” she cried, raising a protective shield. 

She got to her feet. “Who are you?” she repeated. 

She heard the hissing near her feet. “Lumos,” she cried, lighting her wand and pointing it down. Near the feet of her assailant, lay a large snake, coiled ominously. 

“I won't hurt you,” Ginny said in Parseltongue. 

“You're a Speaker?” her supposed rescuer gasped. 

“You mussssst not hurt my massssster, Ssspeaker, ” hissed Asim. “He came to help you.”

“My name isss Ginny. I did not need help,”replied Ginny to Asim, but he heard it too. 

“You were trying to drown yourself,” he said. 

Ginny raised her lit wand to where she thought he was standing. He covered his face. “No, I was just...floating. A baptismal, if you will. You know, washing away my sins.” She peered closer, trying to see more of his face. 

“Sins,” he scoffed. “What would you know about them?” 

“You don't know anything about me,” cried Ginny in frustration. 

“What are you, ninteen, twenty? You haven't even begin to live yet,” he sneered. 

Ginny took a step towards him, but the boa constrictor reared up between them. “You are well named, Assssim, protector,” hissed Ginny. 

“How is it you speak Parseltongue?” he demanded. 

Ginny ignored him. “I mean you and your masssster no harm. I will only defend myself,” she told the snake. 

“And I will defend my massssster,” replied the snake, unmoving. 

“I can defend myself,” he protested. “Asim, stand down. Look, Miss, I thought you were in trouble. Clearly you're not, so we'll leave you alone.” 

Ginny lowered her wand slightly. So he knew who she was. “Are you the master of Fogsworth Castle?” she asked. 

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“How long have you lived here?” she asked. “Was it always like this...barren?”

“You ask too many questions. Goodnight, Miss Weasley,” he said, turning to leave. 

“Wait,” she called, hurrying after to him. She grabbed his arm, and he swung around to face her, his cloak falling slightly off his head and exposing his face. He glared down at her, his six feet towering over her smaller frame.

Ginny gasped as her wand lit up his scarred face. An eye drooped slightly, and the scars seemed to go down his neck and under his top. 

He grabbed her arm. “Yes, get a good look at the beast. Isn't that what they call me – Beast? And I truly am, cursed by a demon witch.” 

He released her arm and she stumbled back. “I-I'm sorry, I-” she began, when he cut her off. 

“Don't be sorry for me, I don't need your pity,” he spat. “There are worse things in life than an ugly face,” he told her angrily. 

“No, it's not that, I-”

“Save it!” he said harshly. “I trust you can make your way back to your cottage?”

“Yes, but I-”

“Then goodnight, Miss Weasley,” he said coldly. 

“Goodnight...Beast,” she said. 

Asim glided over to him, and as soon as she touched him, he Apparated them both away, back to the castle. 

Ginny stood there, alone on the beach in complete darkness, save for her wand light. “What the bloody hell just happened?” she wondered.


	4. A Visit to Town

A/N Lots of familiar names in this one. I don't own any of them. JKR, Disney, Pixar, so many more I lost count. See how many you recognise!

 

After breakfast, Ginny set off immediately for her meeting with the town's mayor, not wanting to be late. She followed the yellow brick road all the way into town, and fifteen minutes later she came across the first main building of the town, the church. The sign for the church welcomed all to their Sunday service, which was led by Father Flynn. Ginny thought it quite the coincidence that her healer was also named Flynn, and decided to stop in to see the minister sometime soon. 

Moving forward, she looked around eagerly. As it was still so early, most merchants were still setting up for the day. Ginny could see many of the same shops here that she usually saw in Ottery St Catchpole, including a general store and a bakery. A handsome man was filling the display counter with gingerbread, and he smiled interestedly at Ginny. She could smell the fresh bread and cakes as she walked past, and decided to stop in there for lunch after her meeting. 

Looking across the yellow paved road, Ginny could see both a ladies and men's clothing shop, advertising the latest cloaks. Ginny wondered if this is where her hooded rescuer – she still smarted that he thought she meant to do herself harm – had purchased his from. He really didn't seem the type to go clothes shopping. 

Right in the middle of the town was the city council office. As she entered she saw various departments to choose from, including the Department of Magical Transport, which incorporated the Floo Network, the Broom and Carpet Regulatory Control and the Portkey Office and the Apparition test centre, all on one floor. 

The floor above it was the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, although the sign above it said - 'Closed as we are helping Gringott's with the Niffler invasion'. 

“May I help you?” asked a curious woman. 

“Hi, I have a ten o'clock meeting with the town's mayor, er, Mayor Cogsworth,” said Ginny, looking at the parchment she'd been sent. 

“Oh, you're the visitor,” nodded the woman, looking at her up and down. Ginny felt like she was on inspection. “Please, take a seat and I'll let Chip, er, Mayor Cogsworth know you're here.” She gestured for Ginny to go sit down. Ginny grabbed a local newspaper and flicked through it. There were advertisements for the local shops, and council reminders that it was time to renew their Floo licences. 

“Miss Weasley? Mayor Cogsworth will see you now. Third floor, up the stairs, second door on the right,” said the woman, eying her curiously. Ginny smiled her thanks and walked up the stairs. 

Mayor Cogsworth met her at the door, beaming. “Come in, come in, welcome, my dear. It's not often we get visitors to our small village.” He held out a seat for her, and she sank onto it. 

“Thank you. I've enjoyed the little bit I've seen. Why don't you get many visitors?” she asked. 

The mayor shook his head sadly as he rounded the desk and sat down. “Why, the curse, of course. Now, my dear, you are welcome to join in all our community events while you are here. You will be made most welcome. Let's see, you're here for, ah...” he perused the letter in front of him. 

“A few weeks. Maybe less,” she said optimistically. 

“Hmmm,” he said, looking at her over the top of the letter, reminding her of Minerva MacGonagall.   
“Well, all seems to be in order. As long as you obey Lord Stinchcombe's request and do not attempt to enter the castle, all will be well,” he finished pleasantly. 

“Lord Stinchcombe?” asked Ginny, puzzled. 

Mayor Cogsworth nodded. “You are staying in his cottage, I believe? Settled in all right?” 

“Oh, right, yes. Sorry, I didn't get his name last night,” realised Ginny. 

“You-you've met him?” asked the mayor, surprised. 

“Yes, he, er, thought I needed some help with something on the beach,” said Ginny. 

“He was out of the castle? How surprising. He doesn't venture out very often unless he's...never mind. It's just mindless gossip. Now, just stay away from the castle, and you'll be fine. Now, any questions?” he asked, friendly. 

“Erm, what do you do for fun around here?” she asked. 

“We are a small hard working community, Miss Weasley, but we do like to wind down at the Green Dragon Inn. They offer a nice drop of Muggle ale, if I do say so myself. Course, you'll still get your Butterbeer and Firewhiskey there. Owner is Moe, whatever you do, don't say anything about his hunchback. Anyhow, Saturday night Moe's place is the place to be. The Sanderson sisters cook up a storm, I swear that Winnie cooks the best Cawl I've ever tasted. Oh, and you're in for a treat. Josie's singing at Moe's on Saturday night, then in the choir on Sunday, that is, if you join us for church?”

“I hope to,” smiled Ginny, wanting to see the type of person who sang in a tavern one night and the choir the next morning. 

“Just a word of warning, my dear. At the edge of town, you'll find Knobbler's Lane. Might I suggest  
it's not a place I'm sure you're parents would want a young lady such as yourself to visit,” said the mayor, slightly embarrassed. “It's a place not unlike Knockturn Alley, in London town, if you know what I mean. Not that you'd be familiar with that place, oh no.”

“It's okay, I've heard my brother's talk,” she said, smiling. She stood and held out her hand. “Thank you, you've been most welcoming.” 

Mayor Cogsworth stood and shook her hand. “My door is always open for you, my dear. Or, if I'm not available, you can go see our Law Enforcement Officer, Auror Woody, just down the street. ” 

Ginny walked to the door. “Thank you, again. I think I'll wander around the town, look around, then go back to the bakery for lunch. The smells were very enticing as I was on my way here,” she confided. 

“That'll be the Muffin Man. Best muffins this side of Neverland,” quipped the mayor, opening the door. Ginny could see someone was waiting for the next appointment with the mayor, so she smiled and quickly left. 

She continued walking down one side of the street. She passed Madame Mim's Menagerie and Owl Post. She came to Aladdin's Apothecary and decided to enter, in case she needed anything while she was here. She'd seen some basic items in the cottage, but being brought up by Molly Weasley had given Ginny a knowledge of the traditional household magic that witches had used for many many years, for protection, healing and prosperity, amongst others. Small magic that made a house a home and aided all that lived within. 

She was impressed with the range the Apothecary stocked, for such a small island with what she had been told was a small population. She was sure even Neville would be impressed, as he supplied many herbs and plants to Apothecaries in London. His reputation was growing rapidly. 

“Well now, and who might you be, dearie?” 

Ginny spun around to see a large, rather ugly looking witch behind the counter, stirring a cauldron. Seeing as how she didn't want to start off on the wrong foot, she smiled politely. “Hello, I'm Ginny. A visitor,” she added, probably unnecessarily. 

The witch's eyes narrowed, as she added eye of newt to the potion. “You're the one? The one staying at the cottage near the castle grounds?” 

“Yes,” said Ginny. 

“I'm Ursula,” said the witch, staring unashamedly. She nodded. “Yes... you might just be the one.”

“I was just looking around to see what you stocked,” explained Ginny, seeing the familiar herbs and plants she'd grown up with. Belladonna, heather and aloe, as well as aloe, sage and lavender. 

“If there's something you want and we don't stock it, Aladdin can get it in for you,” offered Ursula.

“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. I'm going to keep looking around, nice to meet you,” farewelled Ginny. 

She breathed easier when she stepped outside, not having realised how steamy the Apothecary had been. She heard someone whistle, and the sound of girl's giggling. She turned to see two girls looking after a rather handsome man winked at all three witches, then walked away. 

“That Gaston, he's so dreamy,” said one of the girls, swooning. 

“He wasn't whistling at you, Anastasia,” sneered the other. “He was whistling at her.” She looked pointedly at Ginny.

“Shut it, Drizella, or I'll tell Mum you're being mean to me,” bleated Anastasia. “Who is she, anyway?” 

“Come on, or we'll be late,” encouraged Drizella, shooting Ginny a filthy look. “She probably works down Knobbler's Lane,” she giggled. 

“Oh, you're terrible,” giggled Anastasia, as she grabbed her sister's hand and they hurried away. 

Ginny continued her explorations, and came across a small branch of Gringott's. Peering in she saw it was big enough for two goblin tellers to serve their customers. When she saw it was closed she remembered the Niffler invasion and continued walking. 

The main building at the end of the road was the hospital. Stinchcombe General, as she read the sign, treated many of the same maladies as St Mungo's, including artefact accidents, creature induced injuries, magical bugs and diseases, spell damage and potion and plant poisoning. 

“Are you in need of aid?” asked a weary wizard, smoking a pipe. By the smell of it, Ginny recognised Magiweed, and perhaps something else. Herbs of some kind, she surmised. It was comforting, reminding her of her dad, out on the family porch on a summer night. 

“No, I'm new in town, just looking around,” explained Ginny. 

“Thank Merlin!” he exclaimed. “I just delivered twins, and I'm exhausted.” 

“Oh, you're the healer. Hello, it's nice to meet you. So, boys, girls or one of each?” asked Ginny. 

“Girls. Mary-Kate and Ashley,” sighed the healer, puffing away, “but please, call me Doc.”

“Doc? Like, the muggle word, doctor?” asked Ginny. 

Doc nodded. “Real name is Everett, Everett Brown, but I'm best known as Doc around here.”

“I went to Hogwarts with a witch named Lavender Brown. Any relation?” asked Ginny. 

“Ah yes, let's see, that would be my brother's niece,” nodded Doc. “Such a shame,” he sighed. 

“So you treat a lot of different cases here,” noted Ginny, happy to change the subject of her former Gryffindor's grisly death at the hands of Fenrir Greyback, a werewolf, during the final battle. 

Doc nodded. “If anything is too bad, we send them straight to St Mungo's, but that's pretty rare. We take care of our own here, for the most part.”

Ginny pointed to the name. “Stinchcombe General. So what do you mostly treat here?” 

“Drunken brawls on a Saturday night, especially when Josie and her Pussycats sing,” teased Doc. “Nah, I'm teasing. It varies. There's always spell damage, when young 'uns use accidental magic. Broken bones from Quidditch accidents, or-”

“ Quidditch?” asked Ginny, perking up in interest. 

Doc looked at her in a new light. “You're that Harpy that's visiting, aren't you?” 

“Does everyone know about me?” asked Ginny, ruefully. 

“Reckon so. Don't get many visitors here,” said Doc, taking a last puff of his pipe. 

“Why is that? I've only seen this part of town, but it's a nice little village,” said Ginny, looking around. “What else is there?” 

“Well now, it's the curse, you see. Folks don't visit, and the locals are even packing up and leaving. Now, over there is the travel shop. You can find brooms or carpets, whatever you prefer.”

“Flying carpets? I haven't been on one of those since I was twelve, and my family went to Egypt to visit my brother Bill,” said Ginny, excitedly. 

“That's right, they're banned in London, aren't they?” asked the healer. “Legal here,” he added.

Ginny nodded, then listened as he continued his tour of the town. 

“That big building there is the Green Dragon, the local tavern. Now, the lane way behind it is Knobbler's Lane, not that you'll be wanting to be going down there. Next to the tavern is Auror Woody's office.”

“What's down Knobbler's Lane?” asked Ginny, purely out of curiosity. 

“How would I know,” he winked. “Now, on the outskirts of town, you'll find Stinchcombe Elementary, Tony's Pasta Restaurant, and of course, the Cleansweep Factory.” 

“Pardon? Did you just say- the Cleansweep Factory. As in-the broomsticks?” she gasped. 

“Yeah. Thought you might have heard of them,” he chuckled. 

“Heard of them? I love them, they're the best brooms for Chasers,” exclaimed Ginny. 

“You should stop in and see them. Tell them what you think of their brooms. After all, you're a professional. I'm sure they'd love to talk to you,” encouraged Doc. 

“Really? I'd love to. I've always been fascinated by the making of brooms. I'd love to go for a tour,” she exclaimed. 

“'Scuse me, Doc, sorry to interrupt, but Mrs Davis just brought Andy in. Spell damage, again.” A young healer's aide shot a curious look at Ginny. 

“Sid again?” sighed Doc. 

The aide nodded. “Yep. Fighting over some toy. Andy's got green spots all over his face this time.”

Doc nodded and stood. “Back to it, then. Nice to meet you.” 

“You too,” said Ginny. 

Ginny walked back down the town centre. She stopped in to get a muffin from the bakery, and they practically melted in her mouth. Matthew, the Muffin Man, introduced himself and looked anxious. “So good,” she drooled. 

He beamed and slid her another. “For later,” he confided. “Welcome to our island.”

And so Ginny made her first friend. 

/*/*/*/*

She made the trip to the town every day for the next week, taking the time to really get to know the shopkeepers. To her consternation, the Cleansweep Factory was closed till further notice as the employees were helping Gringott's with the pesky Nifflers. Seems like half the town were there. 

“They've called in some fancy Magizooligist. His great granddaddy wrote that book, you know,” confided Matt, as he served her a freshly baked mini Shepherd's pie. She was reading her first task from Healer Flynn. 'Tell me what you are missing the most?'

Ginny took a bite and rolled her eyes. She quickly jotted down. 'My family and Quidditch', and rolled the parchment back up. She was really going to have to stop coming to the bakery, she was sure she'd gained weight already since she'd arrived. 

She thought back to their conversation, thinking back to her Hogwarts days and her Care of Magical Creatures lessons. “Scamander? Newt Scamander?”

Matt nodded, waving goodbye to the old lady who lived in a giant's shoe with her ten unruly adopted children. “That's the one. 'Fantastic Creatures and What to do with Them, or something?” he said. 

Ginny chuckled. “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” she corrected. “Hmm, I didn't know his great grandson continued on with his work. I hope I get to meet him,” she said. She thought of Hagrid, and his love of many creatures. 

“Not this time.”

Matthew and Ginny turned to see Ursula standing in the doorway. “However, you will see him again, in fact, he plays a part in your future. Matthew, I need chocolate,” she implored, coming to peer in his display cases. She left with a bag full of eclairs. 

Ginny didn't question Ursula further, for every time she had seen Ginny this week, she had made some random statement. Ginny simply smiled politely and ignored her. How could this magizoologist be a part of her future? Her feelings were still ambivalent to Ursula, especially when Matthew told her she was a noted Seer.

“So...” Matthew indicated the pie and looked back to her. He was always keen to know how it rated against the food in England. Unfortunately, unknowingly, he was competing against Molly Weasley. 

“One of the best I've ever had. My coach is going to kill you,” she sighed, patting her stomach. 

“Ooh. Does that mean I'll get a chance to meet the Gwenog Jones,” he sighed, hopefully.

Ginny grinned. Matthew was as gay as Dumbledore, meaning discreetly, but as he and Ginny became more and more comfortable around each other, he let his true side show. He had been desperate for a confidante, and Ginny had become it. He had told her about his true love, a famous chef in both the magical and Muggle world. Matthew wasn't interested in the celebrity world, or all the travelling his lover had to do for his career, and they'd split. Matthew had returned home to the island with a broken heart. 

“If this Scamander bloke turns up, the Cleansweep people can return to their jobs,” reminded Matthew. 

“Yeah, I hope so. Well, I should probably go,” said Ginny, seeing Matthew's mother giving her approving looks. She seemed to think she and her precious son were becoming a thing, sure that this gay thing was just a phase. “Got to post this,” she said, grabbing her parchment. 

“Haven't seen the Beast again?” teased Matthew. She had confided in him about the meeting her first night there. 

“No, and I don't want to see him – at all,” laughed Ginny, as she waved goodbye. 

She took her time walking back to the cottage after sending off the owl with her letter to Healer Flynn, taking the long route so she could go past the school. She tried to time it so the children were all out playing, and she liked to watch them. In a way, it reminded her of time spent with her brothers when they were all little and home at the Burrow. 

She watched the girls jump rope and play hopscotch, and the boys play Gobstones. Some climbed on the playground equipment and some played chasey. Games she herself had played when she was little, some with her brothers, some with Luna, her closest neighbour and best friend. 

Smiling at their innocent ways, she walked back to the cottage. She was close by when she heard voices. She hurried closer to the cottage, wondering if she had visitors. Mum, Dad? My brothers? she wondered, suddenly aware of how much she missed them. 

“He's going to eat us, Hansel. He'll gobble us all up.”

'Leave now.'

Ginny recognised Asim talking and hurried faster. 

“Stay behind me, Gretel, I'll try to kill it. Go away, snake.”

As Ginny came up the path to her cottage, she saw a girl cowering behind a boy, about the same age. As she watched, the boy threw a stick at Asim, which only angered the snake more. It coiled up, hissing furiously. 'Leave. Now.'

Ginny hissed back. 'They don't underssssstand. Let me talk to them.'

Asim stopped hissing. Unfortunately she focused on Ginny, and didn't see Hansel pick up a metal spike and throw it. It became embedded in the snake's skin, and it thrashed in agony. “Hurtsssssss.”

“No,” cried Ginny, hurrying closer. 

“He stabbed it. It's gonna die,” cheered Gretel. 

Hansel wasn't crowing. He watched in shock as the snake slithered in obvious distress. 

“Get back, kids. She might lash out in because she's hurt. What are you doing here, anyway?” asked Ginny.

“Sid dared us to come and sneak into the castle and see the Beast,” piped up Gretel. 

“Who's Sid?” asked Ginny, keeping a close eye on Asim. The snake was slowing down. 

“Sid Philips, he goes to our school,” explained Gretel. 

“Is she, is she going to be okay?” asked Hansel worriedly. He hadn't taken his eyes off the snake.

“I don't know, I have to help her. You need to leave, and mustn't come back. The castle isn't a place for children,” said Ginny. 

“Come on, Hansel,” implored Gretel. “I want to go home.” She pulled his arm. 

Hansel stepped back, his eyes still on the snake. “I'm sorry,” he said, tears forming. “I-I just wanted to protect my sister.”

Ginny nodded, needing them gone. The ran off quickly, although Ginny didn't see Hansel stop again to look back. 

“Assssim, what can I do, how can I help?” hissed Ginny. 

Asim lay limply. “Need...the masssssster. He...can...help.” 

Ginny looked up at the uninviting castle. “I'm not allowed to go up there,” she said. 

“Then here is where I ssssshall die,” said Asim solemnly. 

“No! I'll go find him...sssssomehow,” vowed Ginny, for the castle was huge. 

“Take me to him,” hissed the snake, in obvious pain. 

Ginny approached the snake. The wound was oozing, and she could see the metal spike was deeply embedded. “I'm going to freeze you sssso when I move you, it sssshouldn't hurt too much. Okay?”

“Asssssim trusssstsss you,” hissed the snake, closing its eyes to the pain. 

“Petrificas Totalis,” said Ginny, after getting her wand out of her shorts. The snake froze, it's tongue flickered out. She hoped the spell would stop any pain too. After casting a featherweight charm on it too, Ginny carefully picked it up, then glanced at the castle. 

She had obeyed the rules and never ventured up there, so she couldn't picture her destination in order to Apparate. Still she pictured a huge front door, and closed her eyes in hope. 

Opening them seconds later, she did indeed find herself standing at the base of the steps that lead to the front door of the castle. A huge stone wolf and dog were either side of the steps leading to the front door. Trying to use her wand whilst nursing a boa constrictor wasn't the easiest thing to do, so she didn't even bother trying to. “Alohamora,” she called, and the door opened. 

She hurried in. “Hello. I need help,” she called. “Asim needs help,” she corrected. “HELLO?”

/*/*/*/*

He was up his laboratory, checking the latest data from the Ministry. Damnit, it had failed again! He screwed up the parchment and threw it angrily across the room. All these years, all his attempts, and he was getting nowhere with the potion. 

“Hello? I need help.” 

It was her. His brow furrowed deeper in anger. How dare she enter his home! She had been told to never come in here. 

“Asim needs help.” He froze. 

“HELLO?” 

He immediately Apparated downstairs, landing on the staircase. She was about to step up; her foot already on the first tread, her face down as she looked on in concern at Asim. He loomed over her in anger, looking at his still companion. 

'WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ASIM?” he bellowed angrily. 

Ginny looked up and froze.


	5. Learning More

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ASIM?” he bellowed. 

Ginny looked up and gasped. In his haste to get downstairs, he had forgotten to put on his hooded cloak. She tried to take in his appearance, and not seem shocked but she didn't succeed. 

The scarring was old, running down the side of his face, his shoulder and she suspected his chest. His eye appeared to be drooping worse today, maybe because he looked so tired, so...spent. 

“TELL ME!” he roared. 

“Two children were dared to get into the castle, but they came across your snake. In their fright, one threw the metal spike and it struck Asim. It happened only minutes ago. She is in pain, but she has confidence you can help her. I used the Petrificas Totalis spell to freeze her so she wouldn't be in any pain, and to get her to you. Here.” Ginny carefully held the snake out to him to take, trying not to show how shaken he had made her with his bellowing. 

He reached out for Asim, his companion of so many years. Only she knew of his turmoil and torment, the tortured life he'd lead. For a moment his gaze softened, but when he returned to look at her, he growled. “LEAVE!” to her, before Disapparating upstairs. 

He gave her no more thought as he gently lay Asim on his table. “Finite,” he said, and the snake unfroze, hissing and curling inwards. “Hurtssssssss,” she hissed. 

“I'm here, my friend, and I'll do all I can to help you,” he vowed. 

“I know, massssster,” hissed Asim. 

“I need to remove the sssspike, and I won't lie, it'sssss going to hurt. First I need to make a poultice to place over the wound. You'll be sssstuck here with me for a week or sssso while you heal, I'm afraid,” he said, gathering the necessary ingredients. 

“There are worse things, I sssssuppose,” hissed Asim. 

He chuckled, as he worked quickly. His mind was already thinking about getting that spike out. He supposed he could freeze her again, as she had done. But he really needed an extra pair of hands. “Dobby!” 

He grabbed some fresh clean linen and prepared to start. “Dobby! Damn it, I need some help – now!”

“I can help.”

He whirled around, stunned to find her there. “I thought I told you to leave,” he growled. “I don't have time for you.”

Ginny approached him, albeit cautiously. “You said you needed help. I want to help. Please.”

“Pleasssse masssster, hurry,” pleaded Asim. 

“Fine,” he snapped. “Just don't look at me.”

Ginny found this amusing, but when he looked at her, she met his gaze innocently before covering her eyes with her hand. “Like this?”

He was just amazed that she hadn't left screaming at his appearance. “Funny,” he snarled. “Not. Now, let's get to it.” His voice gentled. “Assssim, I'm putting you to ssssleep while I remove the sssspike, it will be too painful otherwisssse. Resssst, my friend, when you wake, thissss will be over.”

“One way or another. Thank you, masssster, for everything,” hissed the snake, and he waved his hand over her head. She stilled. 

He waved his hand over the wound, and it glowed orange. He sighed in relief. Yellow would have been better, but orange was better than red. 

“You can do wandless magic?” asked Ginny. He moved gracefully, it was a pleasure to watch. 

“Quiet,” he ordered. “ I need to prepare a salve. Watch her,” he ordered, quickly leaving to open various bottles and vials, pouring them into his mortar. 

“ Add some Dittany,” suggested Ginny, and he shot her a furious look. She raised her eyebrows at him. “ Just trying to help,” she shrugged, and turned her attention back to the snake. She admired the beautiful colourings on her, and hoped he could help her. 

He soon returned, moving his hand up and down the outstretched body. “I need you to hold her here,” he gestured. 

Ginny moved into position, inadvertantly bringing her closer to him. He stiffened as she brushed him. “Sorry,” she said. “Not.” she added. 

“Cheeky,” he admonished, although he was quite perplexed. Why was she still here? Why was she not afraid of him? 

“I need you to have that bottle of Dittany ready,” he ordered, angry that his mind was on her when it should be on his friend. They both looked around, spotting it on the side bench. 

“Did you meet Asim here on the island?” she asked, watching his hands move deftly yet gently over the huge snake. Using her wand, she summoned the Dittany. 

“No. A zoo in London. I was ten, nearly eleven,” he said, concentrating hard. “Move your hand here,” he said, grabbing it and pulling her closer. 

The second their hands met, they both felt something. A spark, a zap, a recognition of something. Her eyes met his, and it was his that looked away first. “I'm going to remove the spike now. If I'm right, the colour shall change to yellow. If it's red...” he didn't finish that statement, but his look was grim. 

Ginny nodded and focused on Asim. Unbidden came the image of Tom tending to Nagini, chanting something. Ginny began to mimic his sounds, for they didn't sound like any words she knew. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled out the spike. “Quickly,” he said, gesturing for her to pass him the poultice he'd prepared. He lay it on, pressing it close to the wound. 

Ginny continued her chanting, her eyes were closed so she unaware of his speculative gaze on her. 

“Look,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes. 

Under his hand, hovering over the wound, the light shone a deep, dark yellow. “It's working,” she gasped. “You did it!” 

“We did it...but yes, she is healing already,” he sighed, in relief. “Hopefully, in another day or two, the light shall be a light sunshine yellow. Then she shall just need rest to let the wound heal.”

“Thank Merlin,” she sighed. 

“Will you...can you help me wrap the wound?” he asked tentatively, remembering how rude he'd been to her. 

“Of course,” she said, and she used her wand to produce the Wingardium Leviosa charm to raise the snake so he could wrap the wound. She then gently lowered Asim back to her resting place. “How long will you keep her asleep?” she asked. 

“Not long. You can go if you wish. There's not much more you can do here,” he said. 

“What did you mean, you met her at the London zoo?” asked Ginny, ignoring his last comment. She had no desire to leave at all. 

He hesitated. “I had gone there with my Muggle relatives, as a treat for my cousin's birthday. I did not even know I could speak Parseltongue at the time, but the snake recognised I was a Speaker when my stupid cousin mocked her.”

“What happened?” asked Ginny, as he continued checking the snake and cleaning up the potions and herbs he'd used. With a wave of his hand, the bottles flew back onto their shelves. A place for everything and everything in it's place – one of her mother's favourite sayings came to her mind. 

“Dudley, er, my cousin, was tapping on the glass, wanting Asim to entertain him. Suddenly the glass was gone, the snake was free and Dudley found himself in the enclosure. When he tried to get out, the glass was back, and he was trapped.” He found himself enjoying re-telling this story. 

“Accidental magic,” whispered Ginny, and he nodded. 

“I didn't even know I was a wizard, either,” he recalled. 

“So what happened?” asked Ginny, curiously. 

“I got a thrashing from my uncle when we got home,” he remembered bitterly. “Got tossed in the cupboard under the stairs, no food or water for the next two days.”

“What?” gasped Ginny, horrified. “Didn't anybody ever check on you, even from our world?”

He shook his head angrily. “They stuck me there after my parents were killed, and nobody gave a damn about me. Said it was about blood protection from my mother. Well, let me tell you, my blood was spilled plenty of times in that house, and nobody protected me.” He shook in anger. 

Her eyes were filled with tears. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “No child should live like that. Ever!” 

He turned away, not wanting her pity. “I didn't know it yet, but Asim had slithered into the exhaust pipe of my uncle's car, and came home with us. She stayed in the garden, waiting for me to come out so she could talk to me. She was my first real friend,” he admitted sadly. 

“Merlin, can you imagine if someone had spotted her? What did she eat?” asked Ginny. 

He shrugged. “Mice, lizards. The old lady next door to me had a lot of cats. After that summer, well, not so many.”

“How long did you live with your Muggle relatives for?” asked Ginny. 

“Till just before my eleventh birthday. Then my godfather came and took me away. Took us away,” he amended, with a fond look at Asim.

She sighed in relief. “So you never received your Hogwarts letter? I hope your life got better after that. Where had your godfather been all those years, anyway?” 

He frowned. He missed Sirius so much, but would not talk about him with a stranger. “You ask too many questions. It's time for you to go.” He was back to being surly.

“May I come back? To visit Asim,” she added quickly. 

“I suppose,” he said begrudgingly. “Call for Dobby, he'll collect you.” Then he could be absent while she was visiting. 

She nodded, reluctant to leave. She stood and slowly walked to the door. 

“Wait!” 

She turned back to look at him. “That chant you did, it was a snake healing chant. How did you know it? Did someone teach it to you?” 

Ginny shrugged. “Sort of.”

“Who?” he asked. Who would know of a snake healing chant? 

“The same one who gave me the ability to speak Parseltongue. Tom Riddle. Goodbye,” she said, leaving quickly. 

She missed seeing his jaw drop open at her announcement. Not many people in his world knew who Tom Riddle was, and he wondered how she knew it. 

For Tom Marvolo Riddle had been Lord Voldemort. And he, Harry Potter, had been the one to defeat him. 

There was even a whole prophecy on it and everything!

/*/*/*/*

Ginny scowled as a beautiful snowy owl brought her letter back from her healer. 'Please expand' he'd written, returning her reply to his original post – What are you missing the most? 

She had missed her family this week, despite making new friends. Missed her mum's cooking and yes, even her smothering. Missed her brothers, her dad, even more than she had thought possible. It had never been this bad, even when she had first moved to Holyhead. 

She picked up her quill, deciding to be as open as possible. 'I miss my family...and I don't. You see, I'm the youngest, and the only girl – she knew the healer knew this, but it felt like it had to be noted for him to really understand all that meant – 'and what that means is a never ending dose of overprotectiveness in the name of love. It infuriates me at times, because I wonder if they still see the little Ginny that got sucked in by the diary. They're the times I like to go out flying, to remind myself I'm free to do what I want. 

My eldest brother Bill probably knows me the best. I like that I have someone I can go to who totally gets me and why I do the things I do, the way I think. He calls me on my shit, but always has a shoulder for me to cry on.

I used to think Charlie was invincible. I mean, come on, he works with dragons! Pretty impressive, huh? But to see him break down over the death of our brother Fred left me in no doubt that he is not invincible. None of us are. The image of him breaking down in our father's arms the day we buried Fred will never leave me, and I always give him an extra hug when I see him.

Percy is a high achiever, also was, always will be. There's nothing wrong with that, as a Quidditch player, I can understand where he's coming from. I don't understand his love for the Ministry, but it's what he wants to do. He knows, even if he should end up as Minister for Magic, he'll always be our brother that we'll prank. Personally, my money is on Hermione Granger for MOM, that is one opinionated witch that's going places!!

George. It used to be Fred and George, but now it's just George. I know how it feels to lose a brother, but to lose half of yourself? I can only liken it to losing your soul mate, your chosen partner in life and I have yet to meet such a person. But to lose a twin, someone who has been a part of you since, literally, your first moment of existance, well, I can't even imagine his pain. I'm proud of how he's coped. He's seeing Angelina Johnson, Fred's ex, and I'm not sure what to think of the ramifications of that. I suppose you would, but right now, she makes him happy, and that's good enough for me. 

Ron. Closest to me in age. Best friends, we vowed, when it was just the two of us left at the Burrow. His indifference to me my first year at Hogwarts really hurt, and was a big part of me writing in the diary, not that I'd ever tell him that. We weren't close for a number of years at Hogwarts, because he always saw me as a tagalong, but in the end, being a part of a war, and losing a brother, makes you appreciate the ones you have left. He has been the biggest supporter of my Quidditch career and what he doesn't know about the game really isn't worth knowing. He's a brilliant strategist and I'll never play chess with him again, he's too good.

My dad is the best man I know. He would do anything for me or any one of my siblings, and especially our mum. He taught us to look beyond reputation, blood lines, house alliances, colour, everything. We might not have had much money growing up but we never doubted we were loved. (She was thinking about Harry as she wrote that) 

My mum and I have clashed often as I was growing up. She wanted me to learn how to be a lady, and I just wanted to be with my brothers. They weren't made to learn household spells, they were allowed to go and fly, or swim or explore. I resented her for that. I had to learn cleaning charms, sewing spells, cooking spells, healing spells. It made me mad at the time, but now I'm older, I realise it has come in handy from time to time. Her love for her family is inspiring. I hope I can be as good a wife and mother as she is. 

So that's it, my family. They make me crazy – in a good way, not your kind of crazy – they make me mad, but they're mine. They're all incredibly brave, having all fought in the recent war. Even though I now live in Holyhead and don't see them for sometimes weeks, we still keep in touch. I know, in some form, they are all always with me. I love them all dearly. Their support has encouraged me to soar for my goals, whilst still feeling grounded. 

GW

She looked back at all she wrote. It was quite cathartic, writing out her feelings. Still, she always, always remembered what had happened before, and damned if she didn't still open a blank journal, write a tentative 'hello?' and wait anxiously for a reply. Thankfully, none ever came. 

She rolled the parchment up and sealed it. She would walk to town later to post it. The Harpies were playing a match, and she hoped Matthew or someone in town would know where she could listen to it, as there was no wireless at the cottage. With that in mind, she started to limber up and stretch before running up and down the beach. 

From the top most balcony at the castle Harry watched her. She puzzled him and he didn't like that. She had invaded his solitude, his private space, and he liked that even less. She had visited Asim yesterday, and despite his vow to stay away when she visited, he had stayed hidden under an invisibility cloak he'd inherited from his father. He hoped to catch her out snooping, then he would have a good reason to ban her from returning. 

Dobby had told him he was going to collect her from the cottage to bring her to visit Asim. Harry had stopped working on his potion, and stepped out into his bedroom. Curiosity had compelled him to return, hidden, and wait. 

To Harry's surprise, she had arrived with a young boy. Initially he was angry – how dare she bring someone else to his home – but he listened to what she was saying. 

“Hansel, this is Asim. Asim, this is Hansel,” introduced Ginny. 

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” blurted out the boy. He hung his head. “ 'm sorry,” he mumbled. 

Asim hissed at his apology. 

Ginny smiled at the young boy. “Asim accepts your apology.”

The boy looked up in relief. “You understand it?” 

Ginny nodded. “She. Yes, I understand what she is saying.”

Hansel looked at the snake. “She has real pretty colours on her skin.”

“Yes, she does. Would you like to feel her skin?” encouraged Ginny. 

Hansel nodded slowly. “Come here, come closer,” she gestured. 

He took another step closer. “She's awful big. Could she...would she eat me?” 

“Merlin, no,” laughed Ginny. “You'd be too chewy for her. Snakes like birds or lizards, rats and mice to eat. Here, give me your hand.”

Hansel hesitantly held out his hand, and held his breath as Ginny guided it to stroke Asim's body. “Wow, it's soft, not slimy...and cool.”

“Snakes are cold blooded creatures. They like to lay in the sun to raise their body temperature, and I think that's what Asim was doing when you came across her.”

“We don't have any sun, only dull grey fog,” replied Hansel. 

Asim hissed her agreement. She also hissed that she liked the soft way the boy was stroking her. 

“She really likes you stroking her like that,” confided Ginny. 

“Does she really live at the castle...with the Beast?” asked Hansel. 

“There is no beast in the castle, Hansel. Asim lives with her master, and it was wrong of you to try to break in. Please promise me you and your sister won't ever try again, or any of your friends,” said Ginny. 

“Is that...is that his house elf?” asked Hansel. 

“Dobby? Yes, he brought us here and he will take us back to the cottage shortly,” said Ginny. 

“Can I tell my family and friends I was in the castle?” asked Hansel, hopefully. 

“Why?” asked Ginny, startled. 

“Because no-one ever comes in here. Ever!” exclaimed the young boy. “My mum said the castle used to be brilliant, and a nice family lived here, and there was always parties, and fun times. But now we're all under a curse, especially him – the Beast.” 

“Well, this is his house and we have to respect his wishes...okay?” Ginny asked him gently.

“Okay,” sighed the boy. 

“Good. Now it's time to say goodbye to Asim. She still needs to rest,” said Ginny. 

“Bye, Asim. I hope you will be better soon,” said Hansel. “I promise never to hurt another snake again.” 

“Goodbye, young one,” hissed the snake. 

“She said goodbye to you, too,” said Ginny. She turned to see Dobby waiting. “Goodbye,Asim.”

The two walked over to Dobby who immediately disappeared with them. Harry pulled the cloak off his head. “Huh,” was all he could say. 

“Massster, what were you doing under there?” asked Asim. 

“Watching. What did you make of the boy?” asked Harry. 

“He hasssss learnt his lesssssson. I felt true remorsssssse from him,” hissed Asim. 

“Still, she could have asssssked before bringing him,” said Harry petulantly. 

“She asssssked me,” admitted Asim. 

“Oh. Well, that'ssss all right then,” said Harry. “Well, back to my potion. Batch number 390.”

“She bothersssss you,” realised Asim.

“What? No, she doessssn't bother me,” scoffed Harry. “No more than anyone bothersssss me.” 

“Everyone bothersssss you, masssster,” sighed Asim. 

“I have come to embrace my solitude. It is enough that I have you and Dobby,” said Harry, firmly. 

“Hoot.”

Harry turned to see a lovely white snowy owl on his window sill. “Hello, Hedwig. Another letter from the Ministry? Well, let us see what Hermione has to say about my last batch of Wolfsbane potion.” 

He walked over to untie the letter from the pretty owl. He stroked her chest and gave her some treats he kept on hand. 

He had never met this Hermione Granger, but she had become his regular correspondent at the Department and Regulation of Control of Magical Creatures. Despite his doubts when he did some checking on her and found she was only slightly older than he, she had proved herself quite knowledgeable, and her thoughts on his attempts were hopeful and supportive. She was the one to trial his potions on a group affected by the werewolf gene and record her findings. She was always quite encouraging, but the potion always fell short somehow. He looked forward to her replies, even if they were long winded. 

This one was no different. Harry counted ten pages, double sided, for Merlin's sake! So he merely skipped to the last page. 

'– potion seemed to be successful for four to five hours before the subjects exhibited their usual wolf like predatory habits. I'm sorry, James, but once again, time was the factor.' 

James was the name he'd given her, James Evans. Honouring both the parents he barely remembered. 

“Time. How can I increase the time?” he asked himself in frustration, for perhaps the hundredth time. 

Asim had curled up and gone to sleep. Dobby brought him in a plate of food, which he shovelled in without even being aware of what he was eating. After checking Asim's wound, he became engulfed in his books, sure that in one of them was the answer he'd been searching for. 

As midnight came and went, and even as the new dawn approached, he continued on, relentless. Seeking answers, finding something, then discounting it altogether. Frustrated. Tired. Lonely. 

“Perhaps Master Harry could write to his plant friend,” suggested Dobby, as he came to take away his breakfast plate. 

“I suppose, although Neville told me he'd write me if he found anything,” pondered Harry, yawning. “Still, it couldn't hurt. Thanks, Dobby.” 

“If master has no need of Dobby this morning, Dobby will be at the cottage,” said Dobby. 

“Sure,” agreed Harry. “So, er, the girl, erm -”

“Miss Ginny?” asked Dobby. 

“Yes, er, Ginny. Does she, I mean...does she ask you...about me?” asked Harry, not looking at the elf. 

“Oh, all the time...but Dobby tells her nothing. Master likes his privacy, Dobby be telling her. You can trust Dobby, master,” said Dobby proudly. 

“Oh, yes, of course. Er, why does she run so much?” he asked. 

“She is training for her Quidditch. She must stay fit, she tells me, master,” confided Dobby. 

“She looks fit to me,” blurted out Harry. He flushed at Dobby's querying look. “Never mind.”

“Miss Ginny is off to town soon. She is be hoping for someone to invite her to listen to the Quidditch match with her. Doesn't the master have a nice big wireless?” asked Dobby, knowing full well he did. 

“Yes, I do. Oh, I suppose she can borrow it,” sighed Harry. 

“Or perhaps she can be coming to the castle for dinner and listen to it here,” suggested Dobby. 

“Here?” asked Harry, dumbfounded. “Dinner...here?” The very idea was absurd...wasn't it?

“Twould be a nice thing to do to say thank you for helping Asim, Dobby thinks,” said Dobby. 

He popped back to the kitchen, leaving Harry to ponder his words. “Suppose it wouldn't hurt...just this once...do owe her...I wouldn't even have to be here...” 

Dobby popped back. “Dobby is be going now,” he said. 

“Dobby, look. You could tell, er, ask Ginny, erm, Miss Ginny that if she would like, she could come for dinner and listen to the wireless. Here. At the castle. Today...later,” clarified Harry. “ To say thank you for helping Asim.” 

“That is a nice idea, master. Dobby shall be passing your message on,” nodded Dobby. 

“Good. So you'll let me know? Or not. It doesn't bother me if she comes. Or doesn't. Just, you know, let me know,” mumbled Harry. 

Dobby tried to follow his master's orders, but was quite confused. So he simply nodded and left. 

“Right then, the potion,” muttered Harry. “I wonder who's playing against the Harpies today, anyway. Suppose it wouldn't hurt to find out before I start work.”

/*/*/*/*

Ginny was surprised by the invitation but readily agreed to dinner and to listen to the Harpies vs Ballycastle Bats match. As it was only just after lunchtime, Ginny decided to stop in at the Cleansweep factory then maybe chat to Matthew. She felt restless today, and needed company. 

To her delight, someone was at the Cleansweep factory when she stopped by. An old man was checking some paperwork, but looked up when Ginny stopped by. 

“Well hello, how may I help you?” he asked, his eyes friendly. Ginny immediately felt at ease with him.

“Oh, well, I'm not really sure. You see, I play Quidditch professionally, and I love the Cleansweep brooms. I've long been fascinated by the making of them. I don't suppose it's possible to wander around, and watch your craftsmen, is it?” she asked.

The man shook his head. “Not today, I'm afraid. Most of my workers were at Gringott's, trying to help with the Nifflers. But that Scamander bloke is coming tomorrow, so I sent my workers home and gave them two days off. You'd be welcome to come in after that, Miss Weasley,” he offered. 

“You know who I am?” asked Ginny, startled. 

“Anyone who follows Quidditch knows who you are, Miss Weasley,” he laughed. “I'm Gepetto.”  
he offered her his hand. 

“Gepetto? The owner of the company? The one who revolutionised the latest brooms? So famous he doesn't need a last name? You're that Gepetto?” shrieked Ginny. 

Gepetto chuckled and nodded. “Part owner, but yes, that would be me,” he acknowledged. 

“Sir, I love your brooms,” she gushed. 

“Of course you do, they're the best,” he agreed. “You're a Chaser, correct. Yes, the Cleansweep will serve you well,” he nodded. “Although your turning charm should have been stronger in your last match,” he added. 

“I know, I pushed too hard earlier in the match, and it needed strengthening. I planned to do it when Gwenog called a time out, but I needed medical attention, and didn't have time,” she explained. 

“You must always find the time to adjust your charms. Your broom is capable of many things, if you look after it well,” he advised. 

“I know,” nodded Ginny, feeling chastised. Bill had told her the same thing.

“Be here in two days time, promptly at nine. I shall escort you around the factory myself. Bring your broom with you,” he said. 

“It's at Holyhead. I didn't bring it with me,” she said in an apologetic tone. 

“Then, Miss Weasley, we shall make you a new one. Agreed?” he asked. 

“Oh! Agreed, and thank you!” said Ginny, inwardly cringing as she realised she was gushing again. 

“Don't thank me yet, Miss Weasley. By the time we have finished making your new broom, you will know as much about broom making as me,” he warned, but with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, good day to you.”

“Thank you. I'll see you soon. Nine, on the dot. Thank you, oh, I already said that, didn't I? Sorry, er, goodbye,” said Ginny, flushing as she walked out the door. 

Gepetto watched her leave, an amused grin on his face. 

“Yes!” she fist pumped, before realising he was still watching her. She flushed harder, tucked her hair behind her ear and waved goodbye. 

/*/*/*/*

“I made a total fool of myself,” groaned Ginny, as she ate a fresh bun filled with jam and cream. “Merlin, these are heavenly.”

“Oh, stop it, you look fabulous,” said Matthew, waving away her concerns. “Now tell me more about him, the Beast! Young Hansel told me he visited the castle with you, but refused to say anything else. Come on, tell me all,” he encouraged. 

“There's nothing to tell. I could see that Hansel was quite upset about what he did to Asim, so when he came by my place the other day, I asked if he'd like to visit. When he said yes, I asked Asim, and she said it would be okay, so I took him. That's all,” shrugged Ginny. 

“You asked the snake, did you?” asked Matthew, unbelieving. 

“Er, yes. I speak Parseltongue,” admitted Ginny quietly. 

Matthew stared at her in surprise. “Shut. Up! That's like, pretty cool. I thought it was something only dark wizards could do.”

Ginny felt better that he had been so accepting. “Well, a dark wizard sort of gave me the ability,” she said, hoping she didn't have to elaborate. 

“Well no wonder you fit in so well around here. This place has been under a dark curse since before I was born,” he sighed, looking around.

“Yeah, what is that? A couple of people have mentioned it, Mayor Cogsworth, Doc, Ursula,” mused Ginny. “ Even Hansel said something.” 

Matthew shrugged. “All I know is this was one of the most magical places in England. It was once a thriving island, sunshine in summer, snow in winter,” he began. “The perfect place to live. I grew up here, and always knew I'd end up here. I had grand plans for a bakery of my own. I love to design wedding cakes,” he sighed. 

“Really?” asked Ginny, looking up at the perpetual fog that hung over the island and trying to imagine it all sunshine-y or glistening in winter. 

Matthew nodded. “On the other side of town, on the top of a hill, is a fountain, said to be the inspiration for Beedle the Bard's 'Fountain of Fair Fortune' story. It's said the fountain and the bushes that grew around it could cure many ills, but over twenty years ago, the fountain dried up, and the bushes died. Nobody really knows why,” he said mysteriously. “Then, five years ago, a sword suddenly appeared, embedded in a huge boulder. Oh, you haven't seen that part of the island yet, have you? It's past the school, on the east. Anyway, everybody in town tried to pull the sword out, some even suggested that when it was pulled out, the curse would be lifted. Many powerful wizards came to try in the early days, but now, well, it's just there. Waiting for who knows what.”

They were interrupted by Matthew's mother, who brought them out a pot of tea and some more buns. She smiled at Ginny and patted Matthew's shoulder as she returned to the bakery. 

“You know, we may have to marry to keep my mother this happy,” sighed Matthew. “ She was brilliant when I first came home, telling me I could do better than H-no, I refuse to say his name. No, Mum was really supportive, and immediately gave me my old job back at the bakery. Still, she's tried to set me up with every boy in town, not that there's many left.” 

Ginny shook her head. “You wouldn't do that and you know it,” she admonished, and he bowed his head in agreement. “Go on,” she encouraged. “ About the town, I mean,” as Matthew prepared to keep talking about his mother. 

“Merlin himself is supposed to have holidayed here, and my mother swears that at least one of the Peverall brothers settled here,” he said, pouring the tea. 

“Peverall? Aren't they the wizards who are supposed to be from Beedle's tale of 'The Three Brothers?'” she asked, accepting a cup from him and taking a sip. 

Matthew nodded, enjoying sharing the tale. “Word is, one of the Peverall's descendants caused the curse. Something about a prophecy and a baby. It all happened one dark night, on -”

“- let me guess, All Hallow's Eve,” chuckled Ginny. All the scary stories she had heard growing up took place on All Hallow's Eve. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, Miss Smarty-pants. One day our island was like a Christmas card, all snowy and white. Next day, and ever since, we've had this horible grey fog hanging over our island. We've been known as Fogsworth Island ever since, and the rumours said it was because dark magic was practiced here. It wasn't bad for the next twelve or thirteen years, but it's slowly getting worse,” he said, looking up. “Nobody wants to come and visit, which is why we were all so interested to hear you were coming.”

“So, how can the curse be broken?” asked Ginny. 

“That's the thing. No-one knows. We're all doomed...doomed, I tell you,” cried Matthew, dramatically. 

Ginny laughed. “You're nuts. Someone has to know. The Mayor? Auror Woody?” 

Matthew shook his head. “No-one! Families have had to pack up and move away, to start their businesses elsewhere, just to survive. Merlin only knows what will happen in the next few years if the curse isn't broken.” 

“There has to be a way,” mused Ginny, nibbling on her nails to stop herself from taking the last bun. 

“Stop that,” said Matthew, smacking her hands. “We all hoped that when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was killed, the curse would be broken, but it didn't happen. Now, are you coming over to mine to listen to the Harpies match? We can do mani-pedi's and you can tell me all the Quidditch goss, like who's gay and who's just a bitch,” said Matthew, excitedly. 

“Oh, er, sorry, someone else asked me and I accepted. Just wanting to get to know a few more people in town, you know,” smiled Ginny. 

“Well, damn!” huffed Matthew. “I wanted to ask you about Oliver Wood and Viktor Krum.”

Ginny stood and leaned over to whisper. “ We're all bitches, sweetie, but as to the first, well...  
Oliver, no...but Viktor, yes,” she winked, grabbing the last bun and leaving. Matthew gasped and clapped excitedly, then waved her goodbye. 

She laughed at his delight and headed back down the yellow brick road. She had a dinner date to prepare for.


	6. The Dinner

Ginny sat at one end of the huge dining table, sipping her delicious soup. She looked up at the other end. Twelve chairs either side of the long table separated her and him, as well as a huge candelabra and floral arrangement on the table. She moved her head so she could see him, and found him looking down the table at her. 

She thought she heard him say something, but he was so far away. “Pardon?” she called. He said something else, but she couldn't hear that either. “This is ridiculous,” she said to herself out loud, and stood. 

Harry looked up, alarmed. He watched her gather her cutlery and pick up her bowl and move towards him. “What is she doing?” he asked Dobby, who was hovering nearby. 

“Dobby is thinking Miss Ginny is wanting to sit closer to you, master Harry,” said Dobby, twitching his hands nervously. 

Ginny indeed walked closer, sitting in the seat closest to him on his left. “Er, is everything all right?” he asked. “Is there a problem with your seat?” 

Ginny sipped her soup. “Yes. It's too far away.” She smiled at him and continued eating. 

“Far away from what?” he asked, puzzled. 

“From you. I can't hear a blasted thing you've said,” she replied. 

“I simply asked if the soup was to your liking,” he recalled. 

“It is, thank you,” she nodded. “How is Asim today?” she asked. 

“Stronger. Tomorrow she shall venture outside and hunt for food,” said Harry, placing his spoon down as he had emptied his bowl. 

“Good. She has healed quickly,” said Ginny. She too, finished her soup, and Dobby began clearing the table in preparation for the next course. 

She groaned appreciatively when Dobby brought out the main course, a nice leg of lamb, roasted with vegetables. “Merlin, I don't think I've ever eaten as well as I have here, and if you knew my mother, you'd know why that's a big deal,” she chuckled. 

Harry topped up her wine goblet, and then his. “You like it here, then?” 

Ginny nodded. “Apart from the fog, yeah. The townspeople have been really nice, well, except for Statler and Waldorf. They yelled at me.” She picked up her knife and fork and started to cut up her meat, unphased. 

“The two old men who play chess out the front of the convenience store? Whatever did they yell at you for?” he asked, astonished. 

“Well, I didn't know they had this epic chess rivalry going on, like, for years,” she said, buttering some bread. She offered some to him, and he nodded. She passed it over, and buttered some for herself. 

“Yes, it's quite a major news event when one of them finally makes a move, their matches have been known to last for months,” said Harry, recalling seeing a mention of it in the local paper. 

“See, I didn't know that, kind of wish I did. I just thought they were stuck. I've seen them every time I've been to town, poring over the board. I've been playing against my brother for years and he's brilliant. So I made the move for Statler, then told Waldorf the counter move – for checkmate,” admitted Ginny. 

Harry stared at her in surprise. She nodded. 

“I know. They certainly weren't happy, and they yelled at me. Called me all sorts of names, most of them to do with the colour of my hair and the team I play for.” She continued eating. 

“It mustn't have been nice to be yelled at...but they've been playing that particular game for weeks, maybe months,” said Harry. 

“Four months,” nodded Ginny. “I had so many people in town thank me, actually. And you musn't tell, but...” she leaned in closer to whisper, “even Waldorf owled me to thank me. Of course, he said he was going to make that move all along, but still.” She shrugged and continued eating. 

Harry burst out laughing. Ginny chuckled too, watching him. “You should do that more often, you know. Smile; laugh.”

“Why aren't you afraid of me?” he blurted out. 

She looked at him. “Should I be? Do you wish to scare me, do you plan to hurt me?” 

“Merlin, no!” gasped Harry. 

Ginny shrugged, fiddling with her napkin. 

“They call me Beast. I've heard them, the townspeople. I don't blame them, really I don't. I know what I look like. But apart from that first night, you don't seem bothered by my scars. Why is that?” he asked earnestly. He fingered the hood of his cloak that he wore in her presence, needing the security of it. 

“Well, in fairness to me, you had just grabbed my boobs that night. Plus it was dark and I wasn't expecting any company. You startled me, not scared me,” she corrected. 

“I didn't mean to grab you, especially there. I apologise,” said Harry. 

Ginny watched him. “What's your name?” she asked. “I refuse to call you Beast.”

“Even though I look like one,” he muttered. 

“I've seen worse,” said Ginny, sipping her wine. 

He appeared startled. “Worse than this?” he asked pointing to himself, lowering his hood slightly. He sipped from his goblet as he waited for her reply.

“Well, for a start, you have a nose. That's more than Tom had,” said Ginny. 

Harry spat out his drink. Dobby hurried to clean it up with a snap of his fingers. “P-Pardon,” stammered Harry. “Are you – are you talking about Voldemort?” 

“I prefer to call him Tom, Voldermort is just a stupid made up name,” she said. 

“How do you know that?” asked Harry, fiercely. “Not many people know that, and most of them are dead.”

“He told me,” said Ginny, nonchalantly. 

“He who?” asked Harry. 

“Tom. Look, do we need to talk about him. I'd rather talk about the curse this town is under. Do you know about that?” she asked. 

“Yes, of course,” said Harry, impatiently. “It's all connected, don't you see. The island, me, this,” – he pointed to his face – “the fog.”

This got Ginny's attention. “Really? Then you know how to break the curse?” she asked hopefully. 

Harry shook his head. “No. No, I don't.”

“But that doesn't make sense,” said Ginny in frustration. 

“If I tell you what I know about the curse, will you tell me what you know about Tom Riddle?” he asked. 

Ginny nodded. 

Harry lay his cutlery on his dinner plate, indicating he'd finished. Dobby cleared his plate and disappeared to the kitchen. 

“My father's family is descended from the Peverall's, from Ignotus to be exact. The first Lord of Stinchcombe was Linfred, and his eldest son Hardwin married Ignotus' granddaughter. In the absence of any male heirs, she inherited her grandfather's invisibility cloak. It was the tradition it be handed down to the firstborn in each generation.” 

“Do you have any siblings?” asked Ginny. When he shook his head, she gestured at him. “So you currently have the cloak?” 

He nodded and continued. “Henry, who was a direct descendant of Hardwin and Iolanthe, was the first of my family to settle here. He served on the Wizenamgot in the early 1900's. He wanted our world to help the Muggles in their First World War, but the current Minister of Magic refused.”

He was surprised when Ginny nodded to show she understood about the Muggles and their war. “My dad said what goes on in the Muggle world has to have some sort of effect in our world, so he made sure we knew the history, particularly of England,” she explained. 

Harry nodded. “Anyway, Henry's son was named Fleamont and-”

Ginny sputtered, interrupting. “Seriously?” 

Harry grinned. “He was named for Henry's mother's maiden name. Got into quite a lot of fights because of it, mind you.”

“I'm not surprised,” quipped Ginny. 

“It was Fleamont who took the family gold and quadrupled it, by creating Sleakeazy's Hair Potion. He sold the company at a huge profit,” said Harry proudly. 

“I know someone who uses that – a lot!” cried Ginny, thinking of Hermione and her bushy hair. 

“Anyway, Fleamont had married a witch named Euphemia, and just when they'd given up on having children, she fell pregnant. She had a son. My father, James.” 

Although she knew her mother would be horrified, she rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her hands, completely enthralled with his story. “Go on,” she encouraged. 

“My dad, he was spoiled, but not a brat, if you know what I mean. My grandparents doted on him; they were never able to have more children. So my dad went off to Hogwarts and met three close friends. The four of them were known as the Marauders.” Harry decided not to mention their names yet. He'd found people still had bad opinions about Sirius Black. 

“He also met my mother at Hogwarts. After they finished at Hogwarts, they married and soon after, I was born. Right here, on this island,” he said. 

“It was after my birth that my parents learned of a prophecy about me. Well, me or maybe another boy, but in the end it was me. Basically it said I would be the one to defeat the Dark Lord, with a power he didnt know about.”

Ginny shook her head in disbelief. “Keep going,” she urged. 

“My parents decided to go into hiding. They knew that Godric's Hollow was quite a magical community, and even Iolanthe had lived there for a time. So they moved there and, using one of my dad's close friends as a secret keeper, they used the Fidelias charm. They thought they had everything covered, but they didn't take into account that one of the Marauders was a dirty stinking rat. He told Voldemort where my family were living, and on All Hallow's Eve, he came and killed my parents, and tried to kill me.”

Ginny's jaw dropped open. It was all starting to sound a bit too familiar. “But- are you saying you're -”

“Dumbledore sent me to live with my mother's sister, but they didn't tell me I was magical at all. Asim was the one who told me about magic, and a world I could only imagine, a world I belonged in. It was only when my godfather came and took me away, that I got to learn about all this,” he said, gesturing with his hand. 

“You – you're -” stuttered Ginny. 

“They trained me, both Sirius and Remus. Trained me to kill, to fulfill the prophecy. And I did it. I defeated Voldemort. But they were cursed...and I was alone, again. Everyone leaves me,” he said softly, lost in bad memories. 

“Bloody hell!” cried Ginny in shock, standing so quickly, her chair fell over. “You're Harry Potter.” 

He bowed his head, not wanting to see hate or fear, or worse, pity, in her eyes. “Yes. I am Harry Potter.” 

POP “Shall Dobby be clearing the rest of the table now?” the elf asked, brightly. 

Harry stood. “Yes. Thank you, Dobby. I don't think we'll be needing dessert.”

And he walked away. 

/*/*/*/*

An hour later, and he figured he might as well get some work done. Stewing over memories had never helped anything. So he went to his workshop, and poured over the his research, his books, searching for that elusive answer. He was hoping to create a better version of the Wolfsbane Potion, and was also trying to create a Potion to alleviate the long term results of the Cruciatus curse. 

He was engrossed in a new book he'd ordered from Obscurus bookshop, and that had arrived earlier that day. So when he heard the door open, he didn't even look up. 

“Every child in our world grew up hearing about the Boy-Who-Lived. You.”

Harry turned so quickly he nearly fell off his chair. His book cluttered to the floor, but he simply stared at her. She stood in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. He'd thought she'd long gone. 

“I was invited to dinner and to listen to the Quidditch match. Harpies won, by the way.” She moved into the workshop, wandering around, looking in bottles, running her hand over shelves and books. Harry followed her with his eyes. “ I agreed to tell you about Tom...and I didn't get dessert,” she said, her chin raised in challenge. 

She had nearly left after he walked away, but there was something about him, the abrupt way he left, that compelled her to stay. She'd done as she'd said, listened to the wireless, and when the Harpies won, she decided to look for him. As she walked around the castle, she found it depressing and quite empty, despite the once grand furnishings. 

POP. “Did Dobby be hearing some wants some dessert?” he asked hopefully. 

Harry nodded. “Yes, please, Dobby.”

Dobby beamed happily, and left but quickly returned with two bowls of ice-cream. Harry conjured another chair and gestured for her to join him at his workbench. 

“My dad used to tell my your story when he tucked me into bed at night. How the dark one went to Godric's Hollow to kill you. How your mother loved you so much, it gave you a protection of such powerful magic that when the dark one cast the killing curse, it rebounded, destroying him.”

Harry closed his eyes, wishing he had a real memory of his mother, not ones he'd been told by other people. His thoughts strayed to the west wing of the castle, but he re-focused on Ginny. 

She continued. “Everyone wondered what happened to you, but nobody seemed to know. We were told you were with relatives, and would re-join our world at the appropriate time.”

“I hoped you would go to Hogwarts. I vowed I would be your friend. You see, I never had friends. I had brothers, but they didn't want to be bothered with a little sister. Then I met Tom.”

Harry stilled, but said nothing. “Actually, it was his diary. I wrote in it, and he wrote back. He understood me, he consoled me, he helped me. And bit by bit, he took over. My mind, my life...and nearly my soul.”

“No,” breathed Harry. He'd heard about a young girl at Hogwarts, possessed by Riddle's diary.

The first Horcrux.

“You don't have to tell me any more, Ginny,” he said. 

She grabbed his hand. He started, not used to being touched. “Don't you see? Everything that happened to me, to us, back then. It's still affecting us today,” she whispered painfully. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “I tried to deal with it. Went to a mind healer, tried to make sense of my whole life.”

“Me too. Healer Flynn, right?” she asked. 

Harry nodded. 

She nodded too, wearily. Truthfully, she was getting a headache. Thinking about Tom, remembering her past, was draining. But for the first time, she felt she was talking with someone who completely understood.

“I think I should go,” she said. “Would you mind if Dobby took me home?”

“Sure, of course. Dobby?” he called. 

POP. “Master called for Dobby?” 

“Please take Ginny home,” requested Harry. 

Dobby looked between the two, sensing tension. “Yes master Harry.” He held his arm out and Ginny reached out. As soon as she touched him, they disappeared. 

Harry stayed in his workshop till late, trying to imagine what it would have been like if he'd gone to Hogwarts. Would he have been friends with Ginny? Would his Horcrux have recognised the diary Horcrux, and could he have helped her before Tom took control over her? 

Neither he nor Ginny slept well that night. 

/*/*/*/*

What Aren't You Missing?

Ginny sighed, sitting out on the beach as she pondered the latest letter from Healer Flynn. It was the days after her dinner at Harry's and she'd neither gone back to the castle or gone to town. She was not in the mood for company, but felt restless in the cottage. 

She saw movement in the periphereal of her eye. “You can come out, Asim, I know you're there,” she called. Actually, she wouldn't mind the snake's company. Asim slithered out of the sand and came towards her. Ginny smiled in welcome and returned to her parchment. 

“What aren't I missing?” mused Ginny, twiddling her quill between her fingers. 

Asim came closer. “I ssssaw you running. Were you being chassssed?”

Ginny laughed. “No, I'm eating sssso much, I need to try and sssstay fit for Quidditch.”

Asim slithered up Ginny's arm and settled over her shoulders, her tongue flickering against Ginny's cheek. “The massssster is brooding.”

Ginny looked up at the castle. “Yeah, well, he lookssss like he'd be good at that.”

'Yearssss of practicccce, I'm afraid,”sighed Asim, although she had a humorous tone to her voice.

“He wassss going to tell me about the cursssse,” remembered Ginny. 

“It isssss hard for him. He hatessss that the town issss sssssuffering becaussse of him, but it would follow him anywhere. It only became worssse after he losssstt hissss godfather. Then he losssst Remussss too, and clossssed himssssself completely off from love,” confided Asim.

“He hassss no-one in hissss life?” asked Ginny. The idea was completely foreign to her. 

The snake flickered her tongue out again to lightly caress Ginny's cheek. “He hassss me and the housssee elf. But even we know we are not enough. When he allowsssss love in again, then the fog shall be lifted and the curse broken.”

“How issss he going to find love if he ssstays holed up in that casssstle all the time. Doesss he ever go out to meet people? Women...or men, if that'ssss what he likessss,” added Ginny hastily, thinking of Matthew.

“He trusssts no-one, is afraid to let ssssomeone too closssse. He hassss lost too much, my poor master. The only time he goes out is to meet with the minister and the mayor, once a month. He usually sssstaysss in town to vissssit the women down Knobbler's Lane, and they are only interested in his coin,” hissed the snake. 

Ginny grimaced at the thought of Harry going to the women down Knobbler's Lane. “Okay,” she said out loud, changing the subject, “what aren't I missing?”

She thought about her life before she came to the island. It was pretty much all Quidditch or her family. Still thinking about Harry she put quill to parchment. 

The thing that I am not missing is the lack of privacy. Growing up the youngest in a family of seven siblings, I grew up with brothers who thought nothing of barging in on me when I was in the bath ( I was only five or six at the time), or bursting into my bedroom at any given time, announcing it was tea time, or that mum wanted me downstairs for something or other. 

When I first went to Hogwarts, I was simply known as the Weasley girl ( because being a girl was such an anomaly in my family) As the year went on, and I lost myself in the diary, I seemed to become more and more invisible, as if I wore a cloak of invisibility. 

Ginny thought Harry might find that ironic. Not that she'd show him, of course. 

Of course, after my first year, I was that girl. The one who had set the Basilisk free, the girl who had Petrified the students. The one who had succumbed to Tom Riddle. 

I know other students talked about me going to the Yule Ball with Neville Longbottom, but I didn't care. I was the only third year who got to go, and I had fun. It was freeing to not worry about others opinions. 

More people knew me when I made the Gryffindor team and became my new friends when we won. It felt nice to be cheered for and supported by my housemates. 

The whole school soon knew all about me, when the Death Eaters came to our school, pretending to be professors. Although my brother and the head girl kept telling me to pull my head in, I wasn't going to stand by and see less strong students get bullied, tormented and worse, not while I could stop them. 

You know what happened during the final battle, so I'm not going to talk about that – again!

When I signed with the Harpies, it was because all I wanted to do was play Quidditch. I didn't even think about all the other stuff that came with it – the press, the invasion of privacy. Don't get me wrong, I love the fans, especially the children, but it's a weird feeling to realise how many people know about me. They like to think they know me, but they really don't. Does anybody really truly know anybody else? 

I hate the press. They can take one sentence, one photo and manipulate it into anything they want. They don't care what they print, or who they hurt. When they kept showing photos of me with Oliver Wood and insinuating we were more than friends ( he's more my brother's friend than mine), it nearly broke up his relationship with his girlfriend. Nothing Oliver or I said even mattered, the press printed whatever would sell more papers. 

I took my niece to Diagon Alley once, to buy her a book from Flourish and Blott's. She was one and a half. It was off season, and was supposed to make up for the times I missed out on being with her. Within minutes, there was press surrounding me. They jostled me, and made my niece cry in fear. Someone even attempted to take her out of my arms. I quickly left the store and apparated home with her, not realising I still had the book I intended to buy for her in my hand. Of course, the press wanted to run a story about me stealing for my illegitimate secret daughter ( yes, Olivers name was mentioned again), but Flourish and Blott's management completely understood the circumstances and gifted me the book for Victoire. I thanked them but paid for it anyway. My brother Bill ( Victoire's father) went to the Daiuly Prophet threatening legal action if they printed any photos of Victoire or even mentioned her in any stories. He showed them my receipt from the store. Of course, the Prophet dropped the whole story. I have never known Bill to be so angry, and I was angry at myself for putting Victoire in that position.

I have been taken to task by the Harpies hierarchy more times than I care to admit, for being too rough on the pitch, too brusque with pushy fans who think they are entitled to grab my arse, too rude to fans who thrust parchment under my door when I'm in the loo at a public place. I don't think I should have to change who I am to be the person the media wants me to be. Perhaps a discussion for another time? 

Here, on this island, I'm simply known as Ginny. Or that Harpy girl.

I like that.

GW

She rolled up the parchment to post tomorrow. With a start she realised Asim had gone. She stood and stretched, then headed back to her cottage. 

/*/*/*/*

Harry prowled the castle, feeling restless. Dobby had gone to town for supplies, and Asim had been out hunting, and had just come back and curled up for a snooze.

He himself had been cooped up in his workshop for hours and needed to stretch his legs. He went to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich and was about to head back upstairs when there was a knock at the door. Frowning, he put his sandwich down and went to the barely used front door. 

He yanked it open, looking around and seeing nothing. 

“Hello.”

Harry looked down. It was the boy who hurt Asim, and he had a girl with him, a sister, he surmised, judging by their likeness to each other. 

“What do you want?” he asked sharply. 

The girl hitched a breath and stepped slightly behind her brother. Harry felt bad for frightening her, then realised that he was without his hooded cloak. No doubt his face and demeanor was scary for a little girl. 

The boy took a deep breath. “Can we come visit Asim?” he asked bravely.

Harry frowned at the boy. “Pardon?” 

“I wanted to show my sister. She didn't believe me when I said Ginny brung me here or that she can talk to snakes,” blurted out the boy. Behind him, the girl nodded, looking at him cautiously. 

“I can talk to snakes too,” said Harry. 

Both children's eyes widened. “Can you teach us?” asked the boy. 

Harry shook his head. “No, I'm sorry, I can't.”

“Oh.” The boy was disappointed. 

There was an awkward silence, then-“What happened to your face?”

The boy gasped. “Gretel, that's not nice. Say sorry.”

“Sorry,” said Gretel, her eyes lowered in shame. 

“Well, you better come in,” said Harry, resigned. “Although Asim may be asleep right now.

“Can we just see her then?” asked the boy. 

“Well, er, yeah, I suppose,” said Harry, reluctantly. He hadn't had children in his workshop before. “You musn't touch anything, though,” he warned.

He led them up the many stairs. Their little legs made the journey take longer, and Harry had to wait for them to catch up several times. He was getting impatient, for he wanted them to see Asim was asleep, then go. 

“Here we are,” said Harry, and he opened the door for them to enter. “Remember, touch nothing.”

The children entered, although Gretel was reluctant, whereas her brother ran straight to where Asim was snoozing. “Here she is, Gretel. This is Asim.”

Gretel went over slowly, and Harry followed her. A sleepy Asim raised her head and spoke to Harry. “Vissssitorssss? For me?” 

Gretel clutched Harry's hand in fear. “It's okay, Gretel. Asim says hello,” he told her gently.

“Hi Asim, it's me Hansel,” said the boy. 

“I'm not likely to forget you, boy,” hissed Asim. 

“Asim said it's nice to see you again,” Harry said, winking at the snake. 

“Can I pet her? Ginny let me last time,” asked Hansel, looking at Harry. 

Asim looked offended. “What am I, a canine?”

“Asim,” hissed Harry sternly. 

“Very well, the young ones may 'pet' me,” sighed the snake. 

“Asim said you may carefully pet her,” said Harry, then chuckled as the snake appeared to roll her eyes at him. 

Hansel happily leaned over and carefully stroked the snake, just as Ginny had shown him. “Come on, Gretel,” he encouraged. 

Harry felt a tug on his hand. He looked down to see Gretel looking up at him, trustingly. “Will you come too?” she asked. 

Harry nodded and led the little girl over to the snake and her brother. 

Hansel showed her how and where to stroke, avoiding the nearly recovered wound. Gretel still seemed hesitant but let Harry take her hand and touch the snake. Her eyes, which had been screwed shut, flew open, and she gasped. 

“Oh, she feels so nice,” she gasped. 

“Thanksssss,” hissed Asim. 

“Asim said thank you,” Harry told her, sitting down to watch them. 

He sat down and watched the children continue to pet the tolerant snake. They talked to her, telling her about their friends at school. Gretel soon had enough, and stepped back in between Harry's legs, resting both hands trustingly on his knees. 

“Where's Ginny?” asked Hansel, looking around. 

“Can she really fly?” asked Gretel, looking up at him. 

“I don't know where she is, probably at her home, and yes, she plays Quidditch and flies on a broom,” said Harry, now quite enjoying the company. 

“Mama called her a harpy,” said Gretel. 

“That's who she flies for, the Holyhead Harpies. They're an all female team,” said Harry, although he suspected Gretel's mother hadn't meant the term that way. 

Gretel looked keen. “I wanna fly too. I'm gonna tell Mama I wanna be a Harpy.” She'd rather fly than pet snakes all day. 

“Maybe Ginny will teach you,” suggested Hansel. He sighed. “I guess we should go. Bye Asim. Keep getting better, okay.”

“Goodbye, boy, girl,” hissed Asim. 

“Asim said goodbye to you both, and thanked you for visiting,” said Harry. 

“Bye Asim,” called Gretel. 

She took Harry's hand to go back down the stairs. He slowed to match her pace, whereas Hansel ran down as fast as he could. 

He waited at the front door for his sister. “Can we come back?” he asked Harry. 

“Yes, you can come back and visit Asim,” agreed Harry. 

“Can we visit you too?” aske Gretel. “You're not scary at all.”

Harry was dumbfounded. They wanted to visit him? “I-I'd like that,” he said slowly, realising it was true. 

Hansel whooped. “Thanks, Mr Beast,” he said. He ran and climbed on the stone dog that guarded the front door.

Gretel surprised him by hugging him around his waist, the highest she could reach. “Thank you, Mr Beast,” she echoed. 

She looked up at him, and he brushed her satiny cheek with his forefinger. “You can call me Harry,” he told them both. 

He watched them leave, waving till they were a speck in the distance. Then he closed the door and went into the empty castle. 

POP. “Master, Dobby has returned. Would master be wanting afternoon tea?” 

Harry realised he had missed lunch. “Yeah, Dobby, that sounds great. I'm ravenous.”

He raced back upstairs, his feet lighter with every step. 

Asim hissed at him when he returned to his workshop. “The young onesssss are gone?”

“Yesssss, but they will be back,” replied Harry. 

“Oh, joy,” hissed Asim, sarcastically. 

“It will be fine, Asssssim,” promised Harry. 

The huge snake uncoiled to look at Harry. There was something different about him. 

POP Dobby appeared with a tray of tea and crumpets. “Brilliant! Thanks, Dobby, looks good,” said an enthusiastic Harry, tucking in. 

Dobby watched him in surprise, even looking at the snake, who appeared to shrug. 

“Master is well?” asked Dobby. 

Harry buttered the crumpet and looked up in surprise. “Yes, Dobby, I'm fine. Great, even.”

“Oh, well, good. That is good, master,” said Dobby, with another puzzled look at Asim. “Did Miss Ginny visit?”

“Ginny? No, I haven't seen her,” replied Harry. 

“I did. She wassss on the beach, writing a letter,” hissed Asim. 

“Oh? Who to?” asked Harry, curiously. The thought that she might be writing to a lover made him pause. He tried to think back to the information Healer Flynn had given him about Ginny when he wrote to request she stay, but there had been no mention of a significant other. 

“No idea, masssster,” hissed Asim, and she and the house elf exchanged another curious look.

“Hmmph,” grunted Harry, and resumed his eating. 

That night, out on the grounds of the castle, a seedling, long dormant in the cold, hard ground, sprouted it's first bud in a very long time.


	7. Family

Ginny had been eagerly waiting at the Cleansweep Factory since eight fifteen when Gepetto turned up at eight forty five. He handed her a coffee, brewed just the way she liked it. 

“Thought I told you nine o'clock, girlie,” he said. 

“I couldn't wait,” said Ginny, excitedly. She took a sip. “Mmm, perfect.”

“Your friend at the bakery, the Muffin Man, made it for you. Sent along these too. That boy a bit queer, or what?” asked the older man, ushering her inside.

“Matthew is the nicest man,” said Ginny haughtily, “and he makes good coffee. Anything else is his own business.” She took a muffin from the bag he'd handed to her. It was her favourite, as Matthew knew. 

“Just askin'. Not like it bothers me one bit,” shrugged the old man. 

After several days off, the factory workers were keen to get back to their usual jobs. They smiled politely at Ginny, although some did recognise her and smiled brighter, but for the most, it was business as usual. 

“Now before we start, and this is just a precaution, mind you, but I need to cast a charm over you, stopping you from blabbing anything you see here today. I know what you witches are like with all your jibber jabber. You all right with that?” he asked. 

“I suppose so,” said Ginny, understanding the need for secrecy, although she took great exception to his jibber jabber comments. Quidditch was a big business, and spies were rampant everywhere, trying to get an inch on their opposition. Ginny supposed it was the same for the broomstick companies. Still, she'd like to introduce him to Gwenog Jones, see what she had to say to him about his comments about witches! 

“So girlie, you've got a Cleansweep. Ridden any other brooms?” asked Gepetto. 

“Ginny,” she corrected. “Well, my brothers all played Quidditch, except Percy. We had an old Oakshaft at home. The twins had a Cleansweep Five when they were at school, and when Ron was made a prefect he got a Cleansweep Eleven. Some of the other Quidditch players at Hogwarts had Comets, and I think my first year, the Slytherin team had new Nimbus's.”

“Nimbus, pah! Made specially for Seekers. Comets aren't bad... but ours are better,” said Gepetto. Ginny nodded in agreement as she followed him through the factory. 

“Here,” he gestured. “The base of a broom. Needs to be light but not too light...and strong. We keep looking for other types of wood, but we always seem to come back to the basics, and there's nothing wrong with hazel or oak. Rowan works good too, or ash. All work well and will last as long as you need them to, if you look after your broom,” he lectured. 

Ginny looked at the factory below, to see men working at smoothing the gnarls and knots out of the stick. As she walked on, she could see other men using their wands to add the familiar Cleansweep logo, along with a distinctive layer off protective coating over it, making it all glossy. 

“This is the twig department. We have twig sorters, twig cleaners and twig trimmers. You trim your twigs, gir- er Ginny?” asked Gepetto. 

“Yes, sir,” nodded Ginny. Shen had watched Bill and Charlie often, asking them questions which they answered, thinking it was cute she was taking such an interest. 

“Good, good,” said Gepetto in approval. “Broomsticks are like your wands, they react to your magic. Too many of the professionals forget that. They let the maintenance staff take care of their brooms, and even use other brooms for training, only using their good brooms for the matches. The connection between rider and broom is everything,” he said passionately. 

“You sound like a wandmaker,” smiled Ginny, thinking of Mr Ollivander. 

“I used to craft wands, until I saw how wands, in the wrong hands, can do so much damage. Grindelwald, Dumbledore – I knew the wand they were after. Saw what they were capable of doing to find the Elder wand. I am an artist, not a weapons maker,” he said angrily. “So I quit, and came here. My cousins, the Ollertons, owned the company, and gave me a job. They sold me a quarter of the company years later. They went off to open up a branch in Australia. Quidditch is really picking up on that side of the world,” the old wizard said keenly. 

“This here is the charm room. We won't be going in there today. I want you to think about your favourite playing broom, and the sequence of charms on it. Does it work for you, or what can we do to make your new broom better,” he told her. 

They came to the last room. “Finally, we add the footholds and seat. We'll need to weigh you, and watch you fly for a bit, see if you have any leanings, make the necessary adjustments. Understand?” he asked. 

“Sure,” said Ginny, although deep down she was worried about her weight gain. She sighed, there was no two ways about it, she knew she had gained from her playing weight. Tomorrow she'd have to be back in serious training.

“I have to go to my office now. I want you to go down to the broom and twig room. Watch the workers, ask questions. Run your hand over the shaft, see if you feel an affinity with any of them. If you do, that's your base, right there. Sift through the twigs and bristles, see how they feel, what you prefer. Take some test brooms up for a fly, feel the difference. Take your time, don't rush it. I'll see you back here at nine sharp, two days time,” he said. 

“My turn to bring the coffee,” offered Ginny. 

“I knew I liked you, girlie,” said Gepetto, patting her shoulder in approval. 

She didn't find her shaft that day, but after flying on some test brooms, she felt better with birch for the bristles. She had a brilliant morning, and the next time she was there, she found her shaft. Gepetto grunted his approval, and sent her off again. 

She had stepped up her training, and as much as she hated it, she loved how strong her body was when she was at peak fitness. Although it had been four weeks since she last trained or played, she knew it wouldn't take long to get back to her best fitness level. Running on the beach was hard, but good, as was the constant stair runs. 

Little did she know that many eyes watched over her. From up in the castle, Dobby reported her moves each day to Harry, who watched her from his window up high. Asim watched her too, before hunting for food. And Hansel and Gretel came and watched her, before going up to visit Harry. 

“He's our friend now,” confided Hansel, as she dropped to do sit ups.

“Really, that's great,” puffed Ginny. “Asim is enjoying your visits too,” she added. The snake had visited and told her of the visits between the children and Harry. 

“I like Dobby, he's funny,” smiled Gretel.

Ginny lay back, counting the reps before continuing to do more. Then she flipped over to do some push ups. 

“Harry's making a potion, he showed us,” said Hansel. “He even let me stir. Five times that way, then seven times the other,” he said importantly.

“Dobby made scones and I helped him,” said Gretel happily. “We had lots of yummy jam and cream too. Harry ate four!”

Ginny inwardly groaned, she loved scones piled high with jam and cream. “Good thing I wasn't there, then,” she said. 

“Don't you like Harry?” asked Hansel, worriedly. “He says you don't visit any more.”

“What? No, I've been busy,” said Ginny. It was a good busy; flying, training, creating her broom. Taking her mind off a dinner of revelations. 

“He's all alone up there,” pointed Gretel. 

Ginny mumbled something under her breath about the girls on Knobbler's Lane, but smiled brilliantly at the children. “Well, maybe I'll go visit later,” she said. She had planned to go see Matthew, but she could do that tomorrow while she was in town. 

“Come on, Gretel, we have to go. Bye Ginny, see you soon,” said Hansel, gesturing for Gretel to follow him. The little girl stood and hugged Ginny before chasing her brother back towards town. 

Ginny stood and did some stretching exercises to cool down. She grabbed her bottle of water and drank it all down before going for a shower. Then, after dressing, and before she changed her mind, she headed for the castle. 

As there was nothing much to see, she kept her eyes on the castle. Such a pity it was so run down, she thought, not for the first time. If it had been in all it's glory, it would have been the jewel of the island. 

She had to admit, the little town was growing on her. She had even gotten used to the perpetual fog that hung low over the town. Matthew was her go to person for news on absolutely everyone, for it seemed everyone stopped by the bakery nearly every day. 

After her visit with Gepetto, she had gone to the magic carpet shop and met the owner, Gene. He was a font of knowledge about flying charms, she could have listened to him all day. He was a nice man, reminding Ginny of Kingsley Shacklebolt in size and colour. He wore a turban and was very knowledgable. She'd stayed in town all afternoon, talking with Gene and they'd had tea at the Green Dragon Inn where she had indeed tried the Welsh Crawl that Winnie was famous for. Aladdin had joined them, and she'd eventually left, leaving the two men talking about the recent Niffler invasion at Gringott's. 

Ursula still spooked her slightly, for the few times she'd come across her, her eyes had glazed and she'd chant, “the time is nigh, for she has come. Change is upon us,” then stare intently at Ginny. So Ginny preferred to give her a wide berth, only going into the Apothecary when she knew only Aladdin would be working. 

Rolf Scamander, Magizoologist, had arrived the day after Ginny first went to the Cleansweep factory. He had instructed all the townspeople who had offered to help, to leave. Then, with only the two Gringott's goblins who refused to leave a mere wizard alone in their bank, he'd gone down to the bowels of the bank and collected every single Niffler. Within two days, every vault had all their gold returned, and Mr Scamander departed. He promised to return one day with his lovely assistant, who was co-authoring a book with him. Ginny hadn't met the man personally, but Matthew had met him and said he was a very nice man, although a trifle odd. 

By this time, Ginny had arrived at the castle. She patted the dog's head before walking up the stairs, and then knocked on the door. When there was no answer she tried the handle. It opened, and she stepped inside. “Hello?” 

She knew Asim was out hunting for food, so she was expecting Dobby to simply pop in. When the little elf didn't appear, she decided to head up to Harry's workshop. She didn't know what she was going to say to him when she saw him, so she hoped he'd lead the conversation. If necessary, a simple - hey, I heard there was scones here! and she was out of there. 

She continued to call out as she went up the stairs. “Hello?” but there was no reply. Asim had told her Harry often got lost in his books and research, so he mightn't hear, so she continued up the stairs. 

After the first flight, the stairs veered off in two different directions, in a y shape. Ginny had guessed correctly last time she'd been there, and gone right, up to his workshop. This time, however, she chose to go left, and went up the stairs on that side. 

She came to a set of double doors and knocked. “Hello?” she called loudly, but again, there was no answer. Taking a breath, she opened the doors and stepped inside. 

She looked around in amazement and delight. Whereas the rest of the castle was greyish and had an air of neglect, these rooms were filled with light and colour. Ginny was immediately drawn in, compelled to look around more, for this is what she imagined a magnificent castle to be like. 

She looked this way and that, finding herself in a cosy lounge which led to a master bedroom. Across the hall was a similar set up. She was about to go back to the first room, when she heard someone in yet another room call out. It was a female voice.

“Who is it, dear? Is it Harry? He's early today...or is it night time already? I lose track of time hanging around here.”

Ginny spun around, expecting to find someone standing behind her, but when she turned there was no-one. “Hello?” she called. “Is somebody there?” 

“Doesn't sound like Harry?” said a man's voice, gruffer. 

Ginny went into the room, her wand close by at her side. “Hello?” she called again. 

“Who are you?” they asked her together. 

Ginny jumped and looked around, then up. “Oh,” she gasped, for of course, it was the portraits on the wall. 

“Merlin's beard, Harry's brought a girl to meet us,” gasped the witch in the portrait. “Monty, go get James and Lily. Hurry!”

The old man huffed and stood, disappearing from his portrait momentarily. He quickly returned, bringing two other people with him. 

“Mum, what's going on. Dad said something about a girl and Harry and -wowza, who's that?” asked the younger man who had joined them. 

Ginny guessed immediately these were Harry's parents, for the likeness to the younger man was unmistakeable. She guessed then, that the older couple were Harry's grandparents. “Hello,” she smiled brightly. “I'm Ginny.”

“What are you doing here?” asked the older man. 

“Does Harry know you're here?” asked his mother. 

Ginny looked at them all. She had heard of James and Lily Potter, their life and death an important part of their wizarding world's history. “I took a wrong turn and ended up here,” she lied. “No, Harry doesn't know I'm here.”

She had the feeling Lily knew she was lying. Even in death, her protectiveness of her son was evident. “I came to visit him,” added Ginny hurriedly, “and he didn't hear me call out. He can get so engrossed in his work.”

Lily's frown grew deeper, but this time more in concern for her son. “He works so hard, my poor boy.”

“Are you his girl?” asked James, keenly. 

“No, a friend,” replied Ginny, still feeling Lily's eyes on her. 

“She could be the one,” muttered the older man. What had Harry said his name was again? 

“Hush, Monty,” said the older woman. She turned to Ginny. “How do you know our Harry, dear?” 

“I'm staying on the island for a few weeks. He, er, helped me, sort of, my first night here,” said Ginny, “and I had dinner here the other night too.”

James and Lily looked at each other in surprise, as did the older couple. “Well now, that doesn't sound like Harry at all,” said the older woman, uncertainly. “He doesn't socialise much, more's the pity. The castle was made to entertain.”

“Mia, I don't think Harry's the party type,” admonished Monty. 

“Not after everything he's been through,” agreed Lily. 

“Oh Monty, remember the parties we used to have here,” sighed the older woman, and Fleamont placed his hand on her shoulder tenderly.

Ginny suddenly remembered the older man's name. “You're Fleamont, right? Fleamont and Euphemia Potter?” 

They both nodded and looked pleased when Ginny told them Harry had told her about them. They then asked her questions about herself, and Ginny was happily surprised when James and Lily mentioned knowing of her parents through her uncles, Gideon and Fabian. 

“So, do you just stay up here or do you go to other portraits around the castle?” asked Ginny. She had gotten the feeling they had no idea the rest of the castle was so run down. 

“No, Harry thought it best we stay here, and we respect his decision. He is now, of course, the Lord of Stinchcombe, and all decisions of Stinchcombe Castle are his to make,” said Monty. 

“Will you tell us about the town and the people. Oh, I've missed so many of them,” sighed Mia. 

So Ginny sat and told them all she could, which really wasn't much. They asked about people who had since moved away, and Ginny didn't know of them. James was interested in her visits to the Cleansweep factory, for the Ollerton brothers ran the factory while he lived here. Ginny was well aware that Lily still watched her closely. 

“So the town's not doing any better, even with Voldemort gone,” sighed James. 

“It's probably the curse that keeps people away. I grew up hearing about Fogsworth Island as a place of dark wizards practicing dark magic,” said Ginny.

“Fogsworth Island? No, my dear, it' s Stinchcombe Island. Our family own it,” corrected Euphemia. 

“Tell us more about this curse. Who's helping Harry?” asked an anguished Lily. 

“Harry said the curse and his scars are all entwined, but he didn't tell me more,” said Ginny. 

“Scars? What scars?” asked Lily and James, together quickly. They exchanged worried looks.

“He does visit you, doesn't he?” asked Ginny. 

“Every day, without fail,” said his grandmother. 

Ginny quickly guessed he must wear a glamour when he visited his family. She didn't want to give away any more, she had already told them too much. So she shrugged and looked away. “I should go,” she said. 

“No, please stay. Tell us about Harry, and these scars,” implored Lily. James placed his hands on her shoulders for support. 

“I can't, I've already said too much, Please, when he visits tonight, don't ask him. He'd tell you if he wanted you to know, you know that,” pleaded Ginny. She shakily stood. “It was nice to meet you,” she added, before fleeing. 

“Wait,” she heard James and Lily call out, but she fled and shut the door firmly behind her, even leaning on it as she breathed heavily. 

As she regained her breath, and was about to leave, she noticed yet another door, across the hall. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. So she opened the door and went inside. 

It was a nursery fit for a prince. Painted in shades of blue, she imagined this must have been where Harry's father, and possibly Harry himself, slept as an infant. She remembered him telling her he he had been born on the island. 

It was a room full of love, of hope. Golden owls flew all over the ceiling and she imagined a baby cooing and reaching up for them as he lay in the cot. 

A rocking chair sat next to the fireplace, close to the cot. She imagined both Euphemia and Lily, reading stories to their baby sons, dreaming of their futures. 

She moved to the window and looked out. It would have been a magnificent view of the gardens, had the gardens not died off over time. 

Turning back, she went to the cot, picking up the cute little teddy bear that sat in the cot, waiting for a little baby to hug it. Ginny hugged it to herself as she looked around the room. 

“You're...squishing...me!”

Startled, Ginny turned around. “Who said that?” she asked. She put the teddy bear back in the cot and took her wand out. “Harry?” She moved closer to the door. 

“It's me, Teddy.” The voice was now behind her. 

She swung back around. There were photo frames in the room, but they were all empty. “Where are you?” she asked. 

“Here, where you just put me.”

Ginny looked down at the cot. The teddy bear smiled up at her. “Hi.”

“Aaahhh,” cried Ginny, stepping back. “Who are you?” 

“I'm Teddy. Who are you? Are you gonna hug me again. It was nice,” he said, almost wistfully. 

“Oh,” sighed Ginny in relief. “You're a talking toy That's clever magic. Were you James' teddy or Harry's?”

“I know Harry, he's my godfather,” said Teddy. 

“Teddy, love, who are you talking to?”

Ginny turned to see a turquoise feather duster come in to the room. “Hello?” she asked uncertainly. 

“Who are you? Get away from my Teddy,” said the feather duster, twirling it's way over to her. 

“Aw, mum, we was talkin',” whined Teddy. 

“Mum?” asked Ginny, feeling as though she had wandered into a crazy room. 

“You get away now, shoo,” said the feather duster, dusting her away. 

Ginny held her hands up protectively over her face. “Okay, okay, I'm going,” she said, desperate to escape this mad room. 

“C'mon Mum, can't I keep her? Please?” begged Teddy. 

“We have no idea who she is, Teddy. Until Harry says anything, the answer is no,” said the feather duster, firmly. 

“Harry knows you're here?” asked Ginny. 

The feather duster turned to her. “Of course he does. We're here because of Harry, and the curse. I'm Tonks.”

“Not...Nymphadora Tonks, the Auror?” asked Ginny, in surprise. As she looked closer, she could see eyes, a nose and a mouth.

The feather duster turned red. “Don't. Call. me. Nymphadora,” she cried, angrily dusting around the fireplace and sending soot flying everywhere. 

“Sorry. Sorry, it's just...we met...once. At Grimmauld Place. You had come off night watch at the Ministry after my dad was attacked by Nagini. You were trying to cheer me up by changing your face,” said Ginny, hurriedly.

The feather duster stopped and came closer once again. It seemed to peer at her, and nod. “That's right, Arthur Weasley's youngest. Ginny, right?” The feathers changed from red to pink. 

“Yes,” cried Ginny, in relief. “So, you and your son are part of this curse? How awful,” sympathised Ginny. 

Tonks nodded, bustling around dusting the small wardrobe that still held baby clothes. “Teddy was just three when it happened,” she began. 

“Three and a half,” protested the cute teddy bear, his hands on his hips. 

“Three and one month,” said Tonks, dusting his nose and making him giggle. “Remus wouldn't let me come to the final battle at Hogwarts but we weren't far away, just down in Hogsmeade. Who knows, maybe if we stayed at Grimmauld Place, the curse wouldn't have reached us,” said Tonks, sadly. 

“How did you end up here, then?” asked Ginny. 

“Harry came to find us, to tell us about Remus. Poor lad, already been through so much and we were all he had left. Or so he thought. He was the one that found us like this, and it was he who brought us to the island, to be here with him, and close to Remus and Sirius,” explained Tonks. 

Ginny looked down when she felt something soft grab her hand. She lifted Teddy up. “Remus is my dad,” he said proudly. 

“Where are they? I haven't seen anyone else except for Harry, Dobby and Asim?” asked Ginny. 

“Under the curse too, but worse. Frozen in time, they guard the castle and all that live inside,” said Tonks. 

Ginny thought quickly. “The stone dog and wolf?” 

Tonks nodded, and Teddy burrowed against Ginny, his fur nice and soft. “Their animagus forms,” confided Tonks. 

“My dad's a werewolf, a nice, friendly one,” said Teddy. Tonks nodded and dusted his hair, as if ruffling it affectionately. 

“Dobby? That you?” It was Harry, and by the closeness of his voice, it sounded like he was coming downstairs.

“I have to go,” said Ginny, hurriedly. She did not want to be caught in this part of the castle. 

“Will ya come back, Ginny?” called Teddy, as she placed him back in the cot. 

“I'll try, Teddy, but I can't promise anything,” said Ginny, hurrying to the door. 

“Ginny...Harry is a good man. We're this way because he loves us. Love should never be a curse. Please, help him,” implored Tonks, dusting her way over to Ginny. 

“I want to help break the curse, that's all I know,” said Ginny. 

Tonks nodded. “Funny, isn't it. I was always shite at cleaning charms, so I had to do it the Muggle way. I was dusting when the curse struck,” she said sadly. 

Ginny didn't know how to reply. “I'll do everything I can,” she vowed, and quickly left. 

She placed her ear to the door, listening to see if Harry was close by. Taking a gamble, she opened the door and quickly slipped out, just as Harry rounded the corner, his head hung low. 

“Hi, Harry, how are you?”

“Ginny?” His head shot up and he looked behind her to the door he entered every night. “Where did you come from?” he asked her suspiciously. 

“Oh, I just came up from the cottage and was about to come up and find you. Hansel and Gretel said there were scones, and I was hoped there might be some left,” she fibbed. 

“Oh, well let's go to the kitchen. Dobby has gone to my other home in London to wait for a package for me. So we'll have to make do,” he added. 

“You have a home in London?” asked Ginny, following him. He certainly seemed in brighter spirits. Maybe it was true what Asim had said, that the children's visits were helping Harry immensely. 

“Jam, Honey? A pot of tea?” he asked, opening cupboard and pulling out pots. 

“Yes, please,” she said, sitting on a stool to watch him. “Can I help?” 

“No, you're fine,” he said, placing everything on the island bench between them. He left her to make the tea, and brought it back over while it steeped. 

“Harry, will you tell me about the curse?” she asked. “You said the other night you would,” she reminded him. 

He sighed. “There's really not much to tell. When the killing curse rebounded from me to Voldemort when I was a baby, a lot of people thought he'd been killed, even some of his supporters. One of them, the the darkest witch I ever met, cursed my family from that time on. That's when the fog began to settle over the island. You wouldn't know it but this used to be a happy, thriving community, where we all knew everybody and we all helped each other.”

“It's still like that, Harry, only there aren't many people left here,” said Ginny. 

“We had merchants dock here to sell their wares. We had thriving farms of herbs, plants and produce which we sourced to the mainland. But when the fog started and got worse, farms failed, people lost their livelihood. They had to leave the island to find jobs elsewhere,” said Harry, sadly. 

“How do you know this? Weren't you living with your Muggle relatives at the time?” asked Ginny, buttering a cone. 

Harry nodded but looked evasive. “I've talked to people who lived here,” he said, and Ginny immediately knew who he meant. 

“How did you leave the Muggles, Harry?” she asked. “You mentioned your godfather?” 

He nodded, pouring her a cup of tea. “He was...missing for ten years, but he found me and took me away, me and Asim. We lived in London, initially, at my godfather's house. It was under a Fidelias charm,” he explained. 

“My dad's other best friend came back too, and they began teaching me about magic, preparing me for what I had to do. It was hard, not knowing who we could and couldn't trust, and in the end, we decided to go and live in Spain. Sirius, he...wanted to be somewhere where it was sunny and warm.”

“They both treated me really well, and for the first time I felt part of a family. Remus, well, he was a bit more reserved, but Sirius, well...for the first time, I felt I had someone who really understood me. Someone who really cared about me...like a dad.” He flushed and looked away guiltily. 

Ginny guessed it was because his real father, albeit a portrait, was just up the stairs. “That sounds really great. Wait- are you talking about Sirius Black? The first person to break out of Azkaban?” she asked, increduously. 

Harry nodded. “He should never have been there in the first place. They said he was the one to tell Voldemort where my parents lived, but it wasn't Sirius, it was Peter, the rat,” he spat. 

“Peter?” asked Ginny. 

Harry nodded. “Peter Pettigrew, another of my dad's friends. Only he was weak and frightened. Voldemort used his weakness and it destroyed my family.”

Harry swallowed his scone almost painfully and took a gulp of hot tea. “Sirius had a cousin, Bellatrix. She was one of Voldemort's biggest supporters, but when rumours began that he was trying to find a way back, she asked Sirius for help. Implored him to let her return to the House of Black, under his protection. She was scared, you see. She had taken the Dark Mark when she was younger, but now she wanted no part of him or his dreams of pureblood supermacy.”

Harry hadn't noticed Ginny stiffen at the mention of Bellatrix, but saw the look of distaste and doubt after. He nodded. “It was a trick, but for Sirius, who understood the need for redemption and forgiveness, he felt it hypocritcal to deny his cousin the very thing he wanted. So he agreed to meet her...but it was a trap. They wanted me.”

“Why?” whispered Ginny, lost in his story. 

“They needed my blood to bring Voldemort back to his body. Peter, the rat, was still helping him. I was lured to the Hall of Prophecies at the Ministry, wanting desperately to prove myself and to help Sirius. Instead I only made it worse. I gave them exactly what they wanted, and Voldemort returned, stronger than ever. And that night, I thought I lost Sirius, forever.”

He turned his back to her. “Sirius killed Peter and I was glad he got to do that. Luckily, Dumbledore arrived and duelled with Voldemort. Sirius was duelling with Bellatrix, and she cursed him, making him disappear through some veil. I felt such a hatred for her, but she just laughed when I used the Cruciatus curse on her. Said I was a fool for loving too much, too soon. It would be both my curse and my salvation, she said, before she used a cutting hex on my face, then stunned me and left. That was my second scar.”

“Dumbledore and Remus got me away, took me to some safehouse they had. I didn't really care, I was grieving too hard to care where we were. I just wanted to run away, to leave the whole wizarding world behind me. But soon Dumbledore came to me, said I needed to help him find the way to defeat Voldemort. That was when he first told me about the diary...and I guess, you. It was a Horcrux, Ginny. A piece of his soul was embedded in the diary, until Dumbledore destroyed it with the Sword of Gryffindor.”

“How?” asked Ginny, stunned that Harry knew about the diary, about her. 

“Dumbledore slayed the Basilisk with the sword first, didn't he?” asked Harry, turning back to her.

She nodded.

“Basilisk blood can destroy a Horcrux. It was on the blade when he pierced the diary,” he explained. 

“How did Tom make the Horcrux?” asked Ginny. 

“He had to commit murder. It's very dark magic, to create a Horcrux. Voldemort created seven. Dumbledore had found and destroyed four by this time, and he wanted my help to find the other three,” said Harry. 

“Seven,” gasped Ginny, horrified. Seven murders, seven Horcruxes. She felt physically sick at the thought. 

“Dobby helped us with number five, it was hidden in Bellatrix's vault, and he used to work for Bellatrix's sister, Narcissa Malfoy, so he was able to access her vault.”

“Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy gave me the diary,” said Ginny, shaken. 

Harry's eyes darkened in anger. “I'm sorry you had to go through that, Ginny,” he said. 

“I should have known better. I did know better,” she amended, miserably. “But I was so lonely, and he was so nice to me at first. But by the end I felt his darkness, felt him getting stronger, but by then...” She looked away. 

“Yes?” he prompted. 

“I had grown used to feeling the darkness too, liked it even,” she burst out miserably. “He showed me his memories at Hogwarts. He helped me with my schoolwork. I knew potions and charms I hadn't even learnt yet. I felt strong and powerful and I liked it, even though I knew it was him, not me,” she added. 

“The darkness can be quite enticing,” agreed Harry quietly. “After she cursed Sirius, all I could think of was getting revenge on Bellatrix. I didn't care about my scar. Every time I looked at it, it was a reminder of what she had done...what I had lost. I vowed to make her pay.”

“It was around this time that Remus brought me here. Ginny, the island isn't Fogsworth Island, it's really Stinchcombe Island, my family home. I am the current Lord Stinchcombe,” he confessed. “I promised the townspeople I would do anything and everything I could do break the curse. I-I thought when Bellatrix died” – Ginny stiffened again – “ the curse would be lifted, but it didn't. I returned to the island to find things were only worse. I had lost Remus, his wife, and their son to the curse. The last of my family,” he said sadly. “I locked myself away for weeks, months, grieving. I talked to only Asim and Dobby, and I barely left my room.” 

“Oh, Harry,” sighed Ginny, painfully. She too, had taken a long time to recover from the loss of her brother and many school friends. Quidditch had given her an outlet for her anger and frustration, but for a long time she had cried herself to sleep. 

“By the time I finally roused, my scars had worsened, my eye was worse, and the island was worse. Children ran away from me screaming, even men and women could barely look me in the eye. I was hideous, a freak, just like my aunt and uncle said I was. A beast,” he said tiredly. 

She moved to his side, and took his hand. “Don't say that,” she pleaded. “You are none of those things. Asim and Dobby don't think of you like that, nor does Hansel or Gretel. Or me,” she added, squeezing his hand. “Don't shut love out, Harry. Bellatrix said it would be your salvation, remember?” 

He looked down at their hands, then back to her with tears in his eyes. He dropped her hand. “It hurts so much to be left behind...to be alone. I won't let someone else I care about pay the price. It's better this way.”

She would be leaving soon; just someone else who was leaving him. With a realisation that their pasts were intertwined in a way he knew nothing about, she knew she couldn't help him, not when she couldn't even help herself. “I-I...have to go,” she said suddenly, practically running away. 

“Ginny, wait, I'm sorry, I-” He nearly reached her but she Disapparated away. 

/*/*/*/*

Ginny tossed and turned in bed that night, memories of the final battle playing over and over in her mind. The explosions as giants attacked the school, the wand fire, the smells, the blood, the bodies all laying in the dining hall. It was forever etched in her mind. So many lives lost, so many families torn apart. 

She would never forget that night. She had just brought a young girl's body into the castle, when she had come across the dark witch fighting her mother, and her mother was starting to weaken. 

Molly stumbled, and Bellatrix cackled menacingly. “ What will happen to your children when I've killed you?” she taunted. Seeing Molly pale, Bellatrix knew she had found her weak spot. “ When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie.” 

Ginny gasped. Fred...gone? It was unthinkable. She heard the crazy witch laugh as she easily fobbed off one of Molly's spells. 

She stepped in front of her mother. 

“ No, Ginny, no,” cried Molly. Then she looked at Bellatrix, and her face hardened. “ You will never touch our children again!” she cried vehemently. 

But Bellatrix was tired of playing with Molly Weasley. “ Aah, the girl. Seventh of the seventh. What makes you so special, hmm? What did he see in you, that allowed him to pour so much of himself into you?” she wondered aloud. 

“ Why, jealous?” taunted Ginny. “ Wouldn't you like to know what it felt like to have him inside of me, even if it was only my mind, my soul?” 

“ Ginny!” gasped Molly, as Bellatrix hissed her displeasure. 

“ Look at the little girl, talking about what it feels like to have a man inside her,” teased Bellatrix. “ You're making Mummy so proud, sweetheart.” 

“He wasn't a real man, he's nothing but a monster,” spat Ginny. 

Bellatrix responded by throwing a curse Ginny hadn't heard of before. “ Sectumsempra,” she called, her wand swinging wildly. 

Ginny managed to duck in time that the light went over her head. “ Tom won't win tonight,” she warned. “ This time, Harry Potter will finish him off.” 

Bellatrix's eyes went big and wild. She cast her gaze around and found Ron and Hermione, fighting. She smiled evilly, raising a hand over her head as she prepared to cast a spell. The spell.

Ginny felt the anger build in her so rapidly. She had the knowledge, she had the power in her spells, she knew what she had to do. She was not about to let another of her family perish. As Bellatrix opened her mouth and said “ Avada Ke-” Ginny put all her hatred into the spell and flung her wand forward. 

With her arm raised, the spell hit her straight in her heart. She didn't even know what hit her, when she toppled backwards. Dead. Ginny hadn't even had to say the words. 

“ Ginny, girl,” gasped Molly, reaching for her daughter and pulling her into her arms. She stroked her hair, muttering her name over and over. “ Ginny, Ginny...” 

Ginny was numb, her eyes on Bellatrix's fallen body. She had killed. She had taken a life. 

Voldemort roared at the sight of his fallen Death Eater, causing McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Horace Slughorn to be blasted into the air. In his fury at the loss of his most faithful servant, Voldemort raised his wand and directed it straight at Molly Weasley. Until a shield charm was cast, protecting her and everyone else in the room.

Harry Potter cast a Shield charm over one side of the room. Voldemort grinned evilly and the two began to circle each other. 

“ It's got to be me. No-one else should try and help,” yelled Harry. For a brief second, Ginny felt like he was talking to her. 

There was words spoken, words about Dumbledore, words about Severus Snape, a former professor at Hogwarts who had been killed last summer. Then there was a lot of talk about the Elder Wand, before two spells were cast, and then - 

Voldemort was no more. 

As the celebrations began, Ginny slowly walked up to his fallen body. His eyes were open, staring into nothing. 

This was not ' her' Tom. Her Tom was handsome, though devious. This monster had killed her Tom, and now Harry had defeated the monster. 

“Ginny, dear, over here. It's over now, blessed be. It's all over,” called her mother, wearily.

Her father came and put his arm around her shoulders. “ It's a time to be with family,” he said sadly, and led her over to her brothers, who were hunched over Fred, or rather, Fred's body. 

Ginny thought she was going to be sick. 

 

She awoke in a sweat, breathing heavily. She hadn't had that particular dream for ages. The nausea rolled around in her stomach and she jumped out of bed and just made it to the bathroom. 

After, she lay on the cool porcelain floor, spent. She must have slept, for next thing she knew, someone was banging on her door. Hard and loud. 

It was Harry.


	8. Chapter 8

She must have slept, for next thing she knew, someone was banging on her door. Hard and loud.

It was Harry. 

Ginny shakily stood, cast a cleansing charm on herself and a mouth freshening charm as well. A quick glance at the clock showed it was after ten o'clock, and she had missed her visit to the Cleansweep factory. 

“ All right, all right,” she called, when he banged again. 

She yanked open the door. “ What?” she asked. 

“ You spoke to my parents, my grandparents,” he said angrily. 

“ Oh. Yeah, I did,” said Ginny. She turned and walked back to the kitchen, with Harry following her. She needed coffee, badly. 

“ Unbelievable. What gave you the right to come into my home and just wander around?” he asked, still very angry. 

“ I was calling out to you, but nobody answered,” said Ginny, weakly. 

“ You just think you can go anywhere. Those doors are locked for a reason,” fumed Harry. 

“ They weren't locked,” said Ginny. 

“ Of course they were locked. I visit them every night and lock them myself,” said Harry. 

“I'm telling you, they weren't locked,” protested Ginny. “ I had a nice chat with your parents and grandparents.” 

“ That is so not the point,” fumed Harry. “ What did you tell my mother?” 

“ Um, can you be more specific? I told your mum a few things,” she said. 

“ My mother asked me to take off my shirt,” said Harry stonily, “so she could see my scars!”

“ Oh. They don't know the full extent of the curse, do they. Like, about your scars, and the castle falling into ruin, do they?” she asked. 

Harry shook his head. “ What can they do? It is up to me to find a way to break the curse.” He paced the floor, while she watched him.

“ Why are their rooms still so colourful and full of warmth?” she asked. 

He looked at her. “ Because it's a room of love. They're my family. I may only know them through their portraits, but … I love them,” he explained painfully. 

Ginny felt such a pain in her heart. “ I'm so sorry, Harry. You should have had years and years with your parents. It wasn't fair,” she said. 

He shook his head. “ I don't want your pity,” he said. He bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “ What am I doing?” he muttered to himself. 

“ Harry!” gasped Ginny, in sudden realisation. “ You're out of the castle!” 

“ I do go out occasionally,” he said, dryly. “Mostly with my invisibility cloak on. I like to hear how the townspeople are doing, what's happening, how I can help them,” he explained. 

Ginny turned, muttering about helping himself down Knobbler's Lane. “Pardon?” he asked, sure he had misheard. 

“Nothing,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She sighed. “Look, I might as well tell you, I met Tonks and Teddy too.”

He looked pained. “All these people cursed because of me,” he moaned. 

“No, it was because of Bellatrix. She was evil,” said Ginny. 

He nodded. “She killed because she liked it, liked seeing the pain she left behind.”

Ginny wrapped her arms around her waist. “Harry?”

“I hate her,” he spat. “I wish I could have killed her myself.”

“Harry!”

He turned away from her, thinking her cry was one of shock. “I know it's terrible, but she truly was evil.”

“No, it's not,” dismissed Ginny. She walked up to him, touching his arm. 

He looked down at her hand on him, unused to being touched after all these years, all this time without Sirus, Remus and Tonks. 

“Harry...?”

He looked at her pained face. “What is it?” he asked, confused. 

She took a breath. “It was me. I killed Bellatrix.” She turned away, not wanting to see his reaction. “She was duelling my mother. She had already killed my brother, and she knew just what to say to hurt my mum. Love. Love for her children, her family.”

'Your love is a curse, it weakens you', the dark witch had taunted Molly. 

Her mother had stood taller. “You're wrong,” she retorted proudly. “Love for my family makes me stronger, much stronger than you. For I have someone to fight for. Many someones.'

'Will they miss you when you're gone?' asked Bellatrix, threateningly. 

“Yes,” said Molly proudly. “Pity you have no-one to say the same.'

That was when Ginny had come in and fought with her mother.

Ginny was snapped out of her memories by Harry. “That witch would never understand someone giving up their life for another. The love of a mother for her child, a husband for his wife.” He drew a sharp breath. 

Ginny guessed he was thinking of his parents, parents he barely remembered. Stuck forever in a portrait. “She said something similar to me just before I...” She shook her head. 

“What did she say?” asked Harry, curiously. 

“About the love of a mother and daughter. About bonds of love. She spoke of love mockingly, as though it was something terrible. She only loved power; making people afraid of her. I saw her kill children that night, school mates. She didn't even flinch.”

“Love? There is no love, only power,” she mocked. 

“No. You only say that because no-one could ever love you,” spat Ginny. 

“And I suppose you believe in happy ever after, do you? Foolish girl. There will be no happy ever after for you. I will kill all your family, spill every last drop of Weasley blood traitor blood, except yours. You'll be left all alone, wee little Weasley. Your heart will soon harden, and the darkness will take you over. Then you will come find me, and I'll be waiting,” she taunted. She looked around, her gaze falling on Ron and Hermione. 

“No,” said Ginny, defiantly, stepping closer. “I won't let you touch my family again.” And with every drop of hatred for the witch, she pushed the spell towards Bellatrix, as her arm was raised to strike Ron and Hermione. 

“She was right,” gasped Ginny. 

“About what?” asked Harry, worrying about how pale Ginny had suddenly become. 

“In that moment, I did let the darkness take me over. I killed her. I took her life. I'm a murderer, no better than she is,” cried Ginny. 

It was like a dam breaking. Harry gathered her in his arms as she would have fallen to the floor, desolate. She cried, not for Bellatrix, but for herself. Long held back feelings of guilt and remorse washed over her. 

She and Harry slid to the floor. He was holding her, rocking her as she cried and cried and cried. While he would never mourn the loss of Bellatrix, he too had gone through something similar with Voldemort's death. The feelings of guilt to be the one to end someone's life unnaturally. 

Ginny had no idea how long she cried. She felt weak and limp as she lay in Harry's arms. “People always wanted me to talk about it...my parents, my professors, healer Flynn. I-I just never felt like they would understand. They're good people, they've never felt the darkness inside them. How could talking to them help me? But you...you know,” she said, looking up at him. 

“Yes,” he nodded, looking into her eyes. “I know. I too have felt the darkness, and I could easily have let it take me over. But I knew it was wrong, because I had been a part of something better. A family.”

“Yes!” cried Ginny, happy to know someone understood. “It was enticing...but wrong. So very wrong.”

And two people, who had fought the good fight harder than anyone else even realised, found a comfort in the other. 

/*/*/*/* 

“So what are you brewing up in your workshop, you never told me?” asked Ginny, making him a cup of tea. Her eyes were still red rimmed, but she didn't care. Harry had now seen her at her worse, vulnerable and for the first time in a long time, honest with herself. 

“I brew a lot of different potions, some used by the Apothecary here, some I send to St Mungo's. I am working on a couple of specialised potions, though. One is to help people recover from the effects of the Cruciatus curse. If someone is under the curse too long they can lose their minds,” explained Harry. 

“I know,” nodded Ginny. Neville's parents immediately came to mind. How wonderful would it be if Harry could somehow help them, even after all this time. 

“The other is the Wolfsbane potion. I'm trying to replicate the current potion, using more readily accessible ingredients. I fear that due to the current shortage of some ingredients, and with the price rising so much, some families can't afford the potion and I've even heard that they lock their affected family member in a cage during the full moon. It's not safe, and the person who goes through the change could do damage to themselves without the potion. If I'm successful, the potion would be readily available to everyone, and I would see to it that children, especially, would not be charged.”

Ginny looked grim. “Yes, Greyback made quite a number of werewolf children over the last year before he died. But why are you so interested in the Wolfsbane potion?” asked Ginny. 

“Remus,” he replied simply. “He was bitten by Greyback as a child, in retribution over some slight his father did to Greyback. He feared being shunned when he went to Hogwarts, but instead found himself three best friends who soon picked up that he disappeared from the school every full moon. Once they learnt his secret, they pledged to become Animagi so they could run with him on the nights of his transformation. My father was a stag,” said Harry proudly, and with a wave of his wand, his Patronus shot out of his wand. 

“Oh, he's beautiful,” said Ginny, watching the stag leap and bound around her small lounge. 

“Sirius became a dog, a big black dog. Peter was a rat, a true manifestation of his personality,” said Harry angrily. 

Ginny realised something. “So the stone dog and wolf you have guarding the front entrance to your castle is to honour them?” she asked gently. She couldn't let on that she already knew the truth.

Harry shook his head. “No, they ARE Sirius and Remus...frozen forever in stone, cursed forever because of me,” he said in anguish. “Sirius at the Ministry, the night Dumbledore died. Remus, the night of the final battle. I thought they had both died. Their connection to my dad allowed them to return here.”

“Remus is Teddy's father,” gasped Ginny. 

Harry nodded sadly. “Another family, broken because of me. Because I cared for them, they too, were cursed.”

“No,” said Ginny, vehemently, “by Tom.”

Harry nodded miserably. 

“There has to be a way to break the curse,” said Ginny. “Come on,” she said, holding out her hand. 

Harry took it. “Where are we going?” he asked. 

“You have an extensive library at the castle. There has to be something there that can help us,” sighed Ginny in exasperation. “Plus I'd like to seeTeddy and Tonks again.”

“Okay,” agreed Harry. 

“And you parents and grandparents,” she added quickly. “What?” she asked, as he gave her a look. “Your parents would have researched ways to beat dark magic before they decided to go under the Fidelias. They might know something.”

“Fine,” he sighed reluctantly. 

“You should let them come to your workshop. If your dad became an Animagus, he must be really smart, so he might be able to help. What did your mum do?” she asked. 

“She was an Unspeakable,” said Harry, “but she often talks about a friend of hers that was good at potions.”

“Come on, then, what are we waiting for,” cried Ginny, enthusiastically. 

Harry let out a resigned air, but secretly he was excited too. It was nice to be doing something, anything, with Ginny. 

It was like having a friend. 

/*/*/*/*

“My contact at the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures has been testing my potion on two groups of volunteer werewolves. One group is adults and the other is children under eleven. My potion has been successful, apart from the time factor. It always seems to wear off after a few hours, not long enough to see them through the phase of the moon,” explained Harry, thrusting his letters from Hermione under her nose. 

“So time is the factor,” mused Ginny. 

“I'm sure there might be a time turner in the family vaults,” said Fleamont. 

“That's no good, Dad, we don't want the people to go back or forward in time,” said James. 

“Hrmph,” said Fleamont, as Euphemia patted his arm. 

“It was a good suggestion, dear,” she consoled. 

Ginny smiled at him. It was nice having the Potter family here in the workshop. They had been so excited to leave their portraits for another room! Teddy and Tonks had come too, but Teddy quickly became bored, simply propped up on the table, so Tonks kept him in their wing. Her urge to dust the workshop bothered Harry, who liked his papers and books exactly as he left them. “A place for everything and everything in it's place,” he explained to Ginny. She'd giggled that she had had the same thought her first time there. 

“Tell me your ingredients again,” suggested Lily, thinking hard. How many times had she listened to Severus go through his list of potion ingredients over and over. Surely she'd remember something. 

“It's obvious, isn't it? A bezoar fixes everything,” cried Fleamont, in triumph. 

“Not time, Dad,” sighed James. 

“Oh,” gasped Ginny, looking up. “But no, it couldn't be...you would have...no, it can't be that easy,” she mumbled. 

“What is the girl muttering?” sighed Fleamont grumpily. 

“Ginny, what is it? Have you found something?” asked Harry, coming around to look over her shoulder at the notes she was looking at. 

She pushed off her seat and practically ran to the pile of books they'd already gone through and discarded. Asim hissed her displeasure at being disturbed as she was sleeping next to them. 

“Ssssorry,” apologised Ginny, not even looking at the snake. She ran her fingers over the spines of the books, finally finding the one she wanted. 

“Ginny, for the love of Merlin, tell me,” implored Harry. 

Ginny turned to him, holding the book open after reading the page she was looking for. Her eyes shone brightly. “Harry, you've been poring over books and papers on time, but the answer, well I hope it's the answer,” she said gleefully. 

“Tell me,” he urged. 

“Thyme. It's just so...obvious, I know. But listen. In this book on Greek Mythology, Gaius Plinius Secundus, known as Pliny the Elder, said that when thyme is burned, it puts to flight all venomous creatures. It's said that thyme and its extracts could restore vigor and mental acuity. Couldn't thyme work well with the Valerian root? Add a stronger sleeping potion, perhaps. You said when the werewolves wake after taking the potion, they're always groggy and take a day or two to feel normal again. If thyme helps with their mind, they'll wake as if they've had a refreshing sleep. Wouldn't they?” she asked hopefully. 

Harry stared at his notes. Could it be that easy? Hermione's constant notes were there in front of him. 'The problem is time'. 

“I guess it wouldn't hurt to try,” he said slowly. “There's nothing current to suggest it would help, but...we've got nothing else,” he admitted. 

“I have a suggestion too,” said Lily. “Have you tried making the potion under the moonlight, or simply letting it brew under the light of the moon. Even as an Unspeakable, we could never discount the power of the moon and it's cycles, even in the Muggle world. 

“Very true, my dear. If that doesn't work, perhaps Powdered Moonstone? It is an ingredient in the Draught of Peace, you know,” suggested Euphemia. 

“I did have that down to try,” nodded Harry, feeling excited. “The Moonseed didn't work, it's better used as a salve. Thanks, all of you, you' ve given me some great ideas,” he said. 

“It's just nice to feel needed again,” said James, and Lily nodded in agreement. 

“How long will it take to brew?” asked Ginny. 

“I'll need to send Dobby to London to a greenhouse I use in London. I'll owl my friend now, and Dobby can go first thing tomorrow if he has what we need. I can start making a batch tomorrow night. When's the next full moon?” he asked, pulling parchment from a drawer. 

“Erm, next week,” said Ginny, checking an almanac. 

“If we can source the ingredients immediately, we could have a batch brewed ready for Hermione to use then,” realised Harry, his excitement mounting. 

“Hermione? Not Hermione Granger?” asked Ginny, in surprise. 

Harry nodded. “She's my contact at the DRCMC. Why, do you know her?” he asked. 

“Yes, she was a Gryffindor in my brother's year above me. Head girl her last year. Small world,” said Ginny. 

Asim suddenly hissed, making them all turn to see what was bothering the snake. It soon became apparent when Hedwig appeared, perched on the window. 

“Wow, you're good, girl. How did you know I needed a letter sent?” asked Harry, sealing his request for ingredients and folding the parchment. “Here,” he said, and she took it in her talon, “ same place as last time.”

“Hoot,” said Hedwig, and with a flap of wings, she was gone. 

“That's one pretty owl,” admired Euphemia. “Smart too.”

“Well, there's nothing we can do now but wait for my friend's reply,” sighed Harry. A glance out the window showed Hedwig was already a mere dot in the distance. “He won't let me down, I know it,” he said. 

“Right, well, then, there's something I've been wanting to try and now seems the best time,” said Ginny. 

“What is it?” asked Harry, curiously. 

Ginny smiled. “I hear magic carpets are legal here. Let's go for a fly!”

“I don't have a magic carpet,” said Harry. 

“We don't need one. I'm pretty sure I can do the charms and spells to make any ordinary carpet fly,” said Ginny. She'd been spending a lot of time with Gene regarding the charm sequence for her broom, but using the carpets in his store. 

“Oh, do go, Harry, magic carpets are so much fun,” said his grandmother. “Monty, remember us taking James and flying along the beachfront at sunset.” She sighed happily. 

“I remember Sirius and I racing our carpets down main street in the town, trying to catch some pretty girl's eye,” chuckled James. He missed his best friend, his brother in all but blood, terribly. “Course, that's when we were young and stupid,” he said, shooting a sheepish look at Lily. 

Harry and his mother exchanged looks, and Lily discreetly shook her head. They hadn't told James about the curse on Sirius and Remus, and he believed his best friends had been killed. 

“My dear, I do believe there are suitable carpets in the south wing,” said Euphemia, addressing Ginny. 

“Come on, Harry, what do you say?” asked Ginny, her eyes issuing a challenge. She was already inching towards the door. “Don't forget to grab Teddy!”

“You're on,” said Harry, running after her. Her laughter brightened those who were left behind in the portraits until it was silent. 

“Do return and tell us how you got on,” called Lily, as the two left. She sighed. “I suppose we should return to our wing.”

“It's nice to get out, though,” said Euphemia, reluctantly. 

“Would have been nice to visit the south wing,” groused Fleamont. 

“I could have told them the charms I used to use,” agreed James. 

“I think we should let the young ones have their fun,” said Lily, sharing a look with Euphemia, who nodded and smiled a soft smile. 

/*/*/*/*

The next week passed quickly. Dobby returned from London with all the ingredients needed, and Ginny helped Harry prepare them. They decided to add the thyme, but make the actual potion under the moonlight and let it brew. 

The days passed quickly as they let it brew. Ginny was spending every other morning with Gepetto, as her broom came together. The shaft had been smoothed and polished and the bristles had been soaked and then left to dry. Remembering her mother's traditional take on old magic, Ginny had wandered up the hill, close to the fountain she'd heard of, to pick a sprig of Belladonna for the workers to make up a solution of the berries, along with Amaranthus, for alertness and protection to soak the twigs in. A spray of lavender, which her mother had hung in all the Weasley children's wardrobes at the Burrow and gave her happy memories, added a pleasant scent. The twigs were then left to dry out in the air, before being added to the broom and trimmed accordingly. 

Now that the basics of the broom were ready, the next step was her sequence of charms. Gepetto accepted input from Gene, and to the delight of the townspeople, the three flew up the main street on a magic carpet, explaining to Gepetto the sequence she and Gene were considering. He added his thoughts and they tried again, after adjusting the charms. Stabiliser, Hovering, Acceleration, Turning and Braking. A little of this one, more of that one, and what worked well on the carpet might not necessarily translate to the broomstick. When the broom was finally put together, the sequence would be all important. 

It wasn't long before Matthew convinced her to race him down main street. With Gene's blessing, and Ginny's promise to pay for the carpet if they damaged it, she tried out a new sequence of charms, relying more on the Acceleration and Turning charms. She set off for a trial fly, adjusted the charms accordingly, then the race began. 

The races became commonplace in the town. Ginny was now spending every morning at the factory then she would meet Matthew for lunch, or Gene, if the bakery was busy. Then she and Matthew would race down the street, to the giant shoe at the end of the main street and back again. Unknown to Ginny was that Waldorf and Statler started taking bets, with Mayor Cogsworth turning a blind eye. Doc was on standby should there be any accidents, and he found himself watching with interest, in between healing and birthing. 

The children wanted to join them, so Matthew and Ginny took turns hosting either Hansel or Gretel on their carpet during a race. Soon, all the town's merchants would shut up shop for the five minutes or so the race was on, so they and their shoppers could stop and cheer them on. 

Afternoons were spent training, or up at the castle with Harry and his family. Most nights she joined them for dinner, unless she was meeting with Gepetto or Gene and of course, Matthew. 

But it was the nights at the castle she enjoyed most. Talking with Euphemia and Fleamont about their memories of the wizarding world. They were witty and had been quite social amongst their peers. 

She loved talking with Lily and James, the love between the two quite apparent. Then Ginny would catch Harry's wistful smile, and she had to remind herself that these two young parents had died at the age of twenty one. They should have had days, months and years with Harry, and they all knew it. Harry should have grown up with siblings, here on the island. Maybe he even would have gone to Hogwarts, flown for his house, been a prefect; Head Boy. 

All these possibilities only made Ginny's heart ache for Harry. Every night, the more stories the older Potter's shared, the quieter Harry became. Was he too, lamenting the loss of the life he should have had, or ruminating over the life he did have. 

Finally, over a week after their Wolfsbane potion had been sent off, Hedwig returned to Stinchcombe Island, bearing a scroll with the Ministry stamp seal. 

“Open it...open it,” encouraged Ginny, clapping her hands nervously. 

Harry smiled worrying, and glanced at the portraits who, too, waited in hope. “Here goes,” he said, carefully opening the scroll. “Hermione usually sends me pages and pages...oh.” There was only one piece of parchment, and he quickly read it, then read it again in disbelief. 

“Harry! What does it say?” asked Ginny, jumping on the spot. 

His face was stunned as he turned the parchment around so she could read it for herself. “It worked,” he said. 

“It worked?” asked Ginny. Her hands came up to cover her face. “It worked! Really? Oh, Harry!” 

“It worked!” he breathed, looking once again at the parchment. 

Before he knew it, Ginny was in his arms, and his parents and grandparents were embracing too. “You did it,” she breathed, hot against his neck. 

She looked up into his eyes, filled with pride...for him. Then something changed, and she started to pull away. Harry had the feeling if he let her go, that undefinable something would be lost forever. So he pulled her closer, and without even realising what he was doing, he lowered his mouth to hers. 

Ginny was stunned. Harry was kissing her, and it was...wonderful. Amazing. Without even thinking about it, her lips moved against his, searching his, seeking more. 

It was his grandmother's gasp and his dad's amused, “Come on, I think we should leave these two alone,” that brought him to his senses. Reluctantly, he began to stop the kiss, finally stepping back. 

“I'm sorry,” he gasped. 

“Sorry for kissing me?” she asked, dumbfounded. 

“No...I mean, yes. Look, we were all caught up in the moment. Let's leave it at that,” he said. 

“Okay,” agreed Ginny, although she wasn't happy about it. “If you say so,” she added coolly. 

Harry nodded, although he could not look at her face to face, or he would simply stare at the wonder that was her lips. “Are you hungry? Perhaps some supper?” 

“No thanks. I should probably go. I want to get up early tomorrow, go for a run before I head to Gepetto's,” said Ginny. 

“Oh. Okay. Would you like Dobby to Apparate you home?” he asked. 

“No, its fine. Thanks,” she said. 

He stood at the head of the stairs, watching her walk away. To his amusement, she stopped to pat both Remus and Sirius on the head and stop for a quick chat, something she had done all the last week. Less than two minutes later, she was gone. 

And he was left, all alone, again.


	9. Repurcussions

Neither Harry nor Ginny slept well that night. No stranger to nightmares, but this was different. They woke late – Harry, restless, Ginny, drained. Their imaginations had served them well, and unknown to them, they had shared the same dream. A dream of kisses and touching, of tenderness and togetherness. Of hot, steamy sex. Of making love. 

Harry had never dreamed anything like that before; had never experienced the sensations that he'd dreamed about. He'd always dreamt of a connection with a somebody special, similar to what he'd always been told his parents shared. Until the realisation came that the curse wasn't broken when Bellatrix was killed and he knew he was destined to be alone always. Wasn't he? For the first time he felt trapped in his castle, restless for something he felt was just beyond his reach.

Ginny had always held something of herself back, reluctant to give herself so completely to another. However, the things she and Harry had done in their dreams last night – the intimacy, the heat they'd shared, was all she'd dared wish for in a partner. This morning her body felt as if it had actually happened, as if every orgasm – and there'd been a few – had left her drained, yet sated. 

In tandem, yet in complete separate abodes, they both got out of bed and headed for a shower, running hands over their bodies that still felt tender; tingling. Then Ginny dressed and ate breakfast, while Harry dressed and headed for his workshop, where Dobby brought him his breakfast. 

Hediwg arrived not long after, with a note for Ginny. Her hopes rose until she saw the familiar scrawl from her mind healer on the envelope. She'd hoped to hear from the Harpies soon; her six weeks suspension would be up soon. The Harpies were on a winning streak, heading for the finals. 

What have you learnt about yourself?

Ginny groaned and tossed the parchment to one side. She didn't have time for this again. Suddenly feeling the need to escape the confines of her small cottage, she laced up her joggers and took off for a mad sprint along the beach. 

She felt better by the time she reached the five kilometre mark and turned back. When she was near her cottage, she slowed down and bent over, taking in huge gulps of air. She did some stretching and cooling down exercises then prepared to go for a shower. 

She happened to glance up at the castle, startled to see Harry staring down at her through the window. When he realised he'd been spotted, he stepped back into the shadows of the room. 

This made Ginny angry. Her hands balled up in a fist and she stormed up the steps leading to the castle. Then she thought, “Fuck it,” and Apparated to his workshop. 

He looked up, surprised to see her. “G-Ginny?”

“You watch me,” she said. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “Does it feel good, to run like that?” 

She nodded. “Good stress release. I needed it this morning,” she said. 

He flushed, thinking about the dreams he'd had of her, the things he'd done to her. He could barely look her in the eye, for fear he'd drag her to him and do those things for real. 

“Did you mean it?” she asked. 

“What?” he asked. 

“When you said that kiss was just a heat of the moment thing,” she clarified. 

“Oh, erm...yes?” he answered hesitantly. 

“You sure?” she asked, hands on hips. “Because I disagree.”

“You-you do?” he asked. 

Ginny walked up to him, hooked an arm around his neck and brought his face close to hers. “It was the best kiss I ever had,” she said huskily, then kissed him. 

His eyes widened, then closed as the sensations from his dream were now running through his body for real. He pulled her closer, in between his legs, his arms wrapped around her waist. 

He felt her hands on his face, then on his shoulders. His hands ran over her back, down to her bottom. She whimpered, inching closer to him. He ran his hands over each perfect cheek, drawing her closer to him. 

“Harry, please,” she begged. This was so perfect, so right, just like the things they'd done in her dream last night. 

He opened his eyes to see her eyes blazing at him. He'd never dreamt someone could look at him like that. And in that moment, clarity came to him. She deserved so much better than him. 

He grasped her forearms, pushing her away gently. “Ginny, stop.”

“Why?” she asked, trying to get close to him again. “I want...Harry, please, I want –“

“No,” he said harshly. “I'm a beast, a freak.” He turned away from her, to see his reflection in the mirror on the wall. It winked at him, but he didn't notice as he'd turned away to look at her. “And you, you're the fairest of them all.”

“Hardly,” yawned the mirror. “Now, that Snow White, she's a –“

“Shut it,” both Harry and Ginny yelled. The mirror shot them a dirty look and closed her eyes, going back to sleep. 

Ginny looked at Harry, hurt. “You're not any of those things. Don't call yourself that.”

He shrugged and turned his back to her. 

She grabbed his arm and made him turn to face her. “Do you know you barely wear your hooded cloak any more? I don't even see your scars when I look at you,” she cried. 

“Then LOOK CLOSER,” he bellowed, pushing his face right into hers. “This is who I am, probably for the rest of my life. Scarred... cursed. Could you really care for someone like me?” he asked. 

“I already do,” she said. She cupped his scarred cheek. “You won't frighten me away.”

He groaned at her touch, and pulled away, before he did something totally ridiculous and picked her up and took her to his bedroom. He shook his head sadly. “You deserve so much better than me,” he said, before turning away from her. 

“You're wrong,” said Ginny, sadly. She hesitated. “Won't you even try?”

He closed his eyes in pain, glad his back was to her. “You'll be leaving soon. It's for the best.”

There was silence, and he wondered if she'd gone. Then ... “What if I stayed?” she asked softly. 

He spun around. “What?” he asked harshly, sure he'd misheard. 

She shrugged. “The Harpies are heading for the finals, they haven't even needed me. I could stay...we could try.” 

“You would give up your world...for me?” he asked, in disbelief. 

She nodded slowly. “I think you're worth it.”

He rubbed his chest. It felt as though there was a monster lurking in there. “Am I worth taking a chance on?” she asked him. 

He stared incredulously at her. Didn't she know how she changed his life? How happy his parents and grandparents were to be helping him in his workshop, how nice it was to have Hansel and Gretel stop by to visit. That was all thanks to her. But what could he offer her in return, she who had given him so much already? 

He took so long to answer, Ginny seemed to think he was trying to come up with a nice way to let her down. “Oh,” she said, downcast. “I thought...hoped...never mind.”

And before Harry could stop her, she Disapparated out of the workshop. 

/*/*/*/*

She was lucky she didn't Splinch herself, for she had no real destination in mind when she'd left him. She found herself at the outskirts of town, and wondered if her subconscious had decided she needed to have a heart to heart with Matthew. With that in mind, she headed for the bakery. 

Before she got there, however, she passed the church. She had yet to attend any services, despite telling the mayor that she would attend the first week she'd arrived. Before she could second guess herself, she went inside. 

It was dark inside, apart from the candles burning at the altar at the front. No-one else was around, but Ginny was hesitant to call out. She walked down the aisle slowly, looking around. 

“Miss Weasley.”

Ginny spun around, seeing the minister appear from a small room behind the altar. 

“I was wondering if I would get to make your aquaintance. I am Father Flynn.” He held out his hand to her. 

Ginny took it and shook it. “Hello. Please, call me Ginny. My healer is also named Flynn. Am I wrong to believe there is a connection?” she asked politely. 

The minister chuckled. “That would be my brother. We both chose careers in healing, although we followed very different paths.”

“Did he write you about me?” she asked. 

“Only mentioned in our monthly letter exchanges to watch out for a pretty witch who is visiting,” smiled the minister. 

“Oh,” said Ginny, and shuffled awkwardly. 

“I'm sorry, did you want solitude?”asked the minister, gesturing to the altar. 

“No,” said Ginny, shaking her head. “No,” she repeated, quieter. “I-I just don't even feel like I should be in here, to tell you the truth.”

“Why in heavens not?” asked the minister, astounded. “Our congregation welcomes all.”

Ginny felt tears well in her eyes. “I've known dark magic,” she whispered. 

“Did you cast willingly?” asked the minister, solemnly. 

“No!” cried Ginny, aghast. “I was eleven, and a dark artifact was placed on me. I gave in to the darkness and it nearly cost me my life, and the life of several other students at Hogwarts.” 

“Did you show remorse?” he asked. 

“Of course,” gasped Ginny. “I hated what I had done.”

“Then there is nothing more to be said,” said the minister, satisfied. 

“But-but, there's more,” said Ginny, hurriedly. She had expected to see anger, or shock on his face.   
“I performed an Unforgivable curse on a Death Eater.”

“I see,” said the minister, thoughtfully. He eyed her carefully. “Anything else.”

“I-I...” Ginny turned away. “I took a life.” Her gaze was fixed on the flame of the brightest candle. 

“At the battle of Hogwarts?” he asked, and she nodded. 

“Anything else?” repeated the minister calmly. 

She spun around. “Isn't that enough?” she cried. 

He held up his hands. “What do you expect me to say?”

“Aren't you shocked, horrified even?” she asked. 

“I feel sad that you, that someone so young, was put in that position,” he said calmly. “I assume it was self-defense. I will add you to my prayers, that you will learn to forgive yourself and find peace.”

Ginny gasped. “No, please. I-I don't deserve forgiveness, I don't even know if I ...” She looked uncomfortably at the statue of a man on a cross. Church had never been something she'd been exposed to as a child. 

The minister turned to her. “Why don't you deserve forgiveness?” he asked. 

“Because I felt the darkness, even when I shot the spell at her. I-I feel like I've been waiting to be punished for what I did,” cried Ginny. “I lost myself in Quidditch, all the training and playing. I felt lost amongst my friends and family, didn't feel like I deserved them,” she admitted. 

“Sounds to me like you've been in a self imposed prison. Keeping others from getting close, shutting your emotions down, burning yourself out on the Quidditch pitch,” said the minister, knowingly. 

“Yes,” whispered Ginny. “I feel like there was so much building up inside me, so much anger. It was a relief to get away from all that when I came here. I hate that I might have hurt my family and friends that way, though.”

“They will forgive you, Ginny,” said the minister. 

“How do you know?” asked Ginny. 

“Because they love you. They want the very best for you, as you should want for them,” said the minister. 

“I do,” nodded Ginny. 

“And so, as they forgive you, so should you forgive yourself. There will come a time that we must all face the consequences of our decisions before we pass on to the next life,” said the minister. “Until then, it is our duty to live our lives to the fullest, to be the best that we can be. You lost friends, family in the battle?” he asked gently. 

Ginny nodded. “My brother, Fred. So many schoolmates...too many.”

“Can you do that, Ginny? Can you forgive yourself for your actions?” he asked gently. 

Ginny wasn't sure but she nodded. “I-I'll try,” she stammered. “I want to,” she admitted. 

Minister Flynn nodded and smiled. “On another note, your presence has had an impact on our Lord Stinchcombe.”

“Oh?” asked Ginny, happy to change the subject. “You know him well?”

“I wouldn't say that,” chuckled the minister. “However, we do have a monthly meeting, along with the mayor. Just to discuss any major town news, nothing personal,” he said. 

“Once a month?” asked Ginny. 

The minister nodded. “The Potter family have always looked out for their people. The current Lord Stinchcombe feels personally responsible that so many of our former residents have had to leave our island to sustain their businesses.”

“Because of the curse,” said Ginny. 

“Yes. Alas, he has done all he can to help them, but when it comes to crops and the land, there is no substitute for rain and sunshine. Unfortunately, the fog was getting thicker every week...and soon, when their land dried up they had no choice but to leave.”

“What will everyone do when the fog is even thicker?” asked Ginny. 

Minister Flynn looked grim. “That is something the mayor, Lord Stinchcombe and I discuss every month, but so far, we have yet to come up with a functional plan. I think we are all hoping for a miracle,” he chuckled. 

“Well, I guess you'd know a thing or two about them,” said Ginny, smiling. 

He half bowed. “I pray nightly for one,” he smiled gently. 

Ginny smiled back. “I''m not sure how much longer I'll be here for, but it was nice to meet you. If I can think of any way to help the town, I'll certainly let you know.”

He accompanied her to the church doors. “Our doors are always open for you, Ginny. You have certainly made an impact on our little town since your arrival. Why, it's like you're one of our own,” he said. 

“I will miss you all,” she confessed. “Goodbye.” 

“Goobye, Ginny,” he called, as she walked down towards the bakery. 

She saw Matthew leave the bakery and head straight for her, some parchment in his hand. As she got closer to him, she could see he was flustered. 

“Thank Merlin you're here, I was about to come and find you,” he gasped. 

“What's going on?” she asked. 

“Here,” said Matthew, thrusting the letter in her hand. “Read it!”

Ginny read the short letter, then looked up to Matthew. “Your ex is coming here? That's, erm, that's – ” She was going to say it was good, but by the expression on his face, it didn't seem prudent to finish. 

“Ridiculous! Did you see what he wrote. 'I've had enough of the celebrity life. Tired of the travelling. I miss you, I miss us; what we had, what we could have. I'll be there on Monday to discuss our future. Love H.' Can you believe him?” cried Matthew, snatching the letter back from her. 

“Matthew, it sounds really nice,” said Ginny gently. “Isn't this what you wanted?”

“Yes...no...I don't know. What if he hates it here? What if he ends up resenting me for making him settle here? You'll be here, won't you, when he arrives? You have to be, I need you here,” said Matthew, desperately. He threaded her arm through his and they started walking back to the bakery. 

“Of course I will, I doubt the Harpies will be recalling me any time soon. Hey, their last match is on today. Want to listen to it with me?” she asked. 

“Not listening to it with Beasty?” teased Matthew, nudging her. 

“No, I definitely want to put a bit of distance between us today,” shrugged Ginny. 

“Ooh, do tell,” encouraged Matthew, glad to forget his troubles for a minute. 

“We kissed,” admitted Ginny. 

“Shut. Up,” said Matthew, stopping in the middle of the street. 

Ginny smiled and nodded. “And then I had the most amazing dream. It was so real, you know?” 

Matthew nodded in total understanding. “I love those kind of dreams,” he sighed. 

“Things have been going really well and then we kissed, and I want to kiss him again, so I told him, and he said nothing, even after I offered to stay. So I left,” said Ginny. 

“That...beast,” gasped Matthew. “Men!”

Ginny chuckled. “You're a man, Matthew,” she reminded him. 

He stopped and grabbed her arm. “This calls for a girls night out. We'll go to the Green Dragon Inn, they've probably got your match on. We can listen to it and get sloshed, and trash talk our men. Come on, we'll go back to mine to get ready.”

“I don't have anything to wear,” laughed Ginny, although his idea sounded good. “In fact,” – she sniffed under her arm – “I need a shower.”

“Do you want to go back to yours and get changed?” asked Matthew, knowingly. Ginny quickly shook her head. “Come on, we'll transfigure something of mine for you to wear.”

With arms linked, they headed for Matthew's place. It was exactly what she needed. A night out at the pub. 

/*/*/*/*

“Is she home yet?” asked Harry, almost jumping on Dobby as he popped into the workshop. 

“No master, like the ten other times Dobby has been to the cottage, Miss Ginny is not there,” sighed Dobby. “Shall Dobby go to town to check?” he asked, for the eighth time. 

“No,” said Harry, resigned. “For all I know, she has left the island...and I wouldn't blame her.”

Asim and Dobby shared a look. 

“I mean, what can I offer her? A run down castle, set on barren land. A town under threat of complete greyness?” he asked rhetorically. 

“It doessss not ssssseeem as if any of that bothersssss her, masssster,” hissed Asim. 

“It bothers me,” replied Harry, banging his fist on his workbench. “Damn this curse. Do you really think I want to send her away? She is the best, the brightest thing to ever come into my life. The fact that she even thinks she cares for me is mind boggling. Me! When she could have anyone,” he said. 

“Perhaps a talk with Master James would be a good idea,” suggested Dobby. 

Harry ran his hands through his hair. “No. I've made up my mind. It's best for her if she leaves.”

“Talk to her again, explain yoursssself,” encouraged Asim.

Harry shook his head. “If I see her again, I fear I would never let her go. Dobby, you tell her. Tomorrow, she must pack her bags and leave.”

Dobby yelped. “Dobby? No, Dobby refuses to be the one to send Miss Ginny away.” He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back on Harry defiantly. 

Harry glared at Dobby's back. “Fine. Asim, you will tell her.”

“Ssssorry, Massster, I cannot asssk her to leave, when we all want her to sssstay,” said Asim sadly.

“Fine then, I'll tell her myself...if she ever bloody comes back to the cottage,” snarled Harry. He paced the workshop restlessly, then picked up the wireless and turned it on. 

“ – amazing match, everyone! Puddlemere's Thompson catches the Snitch, but the Harpies Chaser, Goodfellow, managed to sneak the Quaffle past Wood, scoring at the last minutes to give the Harpies the win by ten points. The Holyhead Harpies are heading to the finals! What a match!”

Harry turned the wireless off. “That's her life, that's where she belongs. That's her passion, Quidditch. Have you seen her fly, she's so graceful. You can see she loves it. She's been building a new broom, for Merlin's sake. Does that sound like someone who's planning on staying?” he asked them. 

Dobby shook his head sadly. “Dobby shall go down and start p-preparing d-d-dinner,” stuttered the elf, his huge eyes welling with tears. With a pop, he was gone. 

Harry turned to Asim. “She was never going to stay for long, anyway. She was told to stay away from the castle, and she should have listened. Then none of this would have happened,” he said angrily. 

“That'sssss right, master,” agreed Asim. “I would probably be dead from young Hanssssel's attack, your parentssss and grandparentssss would ssssstill be locked up in their wing, you would not have found the missssssing ingredient in your potion and -”

“Assssim,” warned Harry. 

“- you would not know how much fun it is to glide over the sand on a magic carpet, hearing young Teddy'sssss laughter,” continued Asim.

“Assssim, enough,” snapped Harry. 

“And you would never know the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressed against yours,” said Asim. 

“Stop. Please,” begged Harry. He reverted to Parseltongue. “Don't you undersssstand...I'm doing what'sssss besssst for her.”

“And we are doing what is besssst for you, masssster,” hissed Asim. “She issss what'ssss bestsss for you.”

Harry shook his head, weary. “Please...I want to be alone.”

“You will be,” hissed Asim. “The elf and I won't live forever. Mrssss Tonkssss and young Teddy will surely change fully when the cursssse is complete.”

The snake then slid out the window and slithered up a pipe to the roof. 

Leaving Harry all alone. 

/*/*/*/*

“To the Harpies!” toasted Ginny, then skolled a shot. 

“The Harpies,” chorused the other bar goers, who had been listening to the match. They tossed their shots down too. 

“That Chaser of the Harpies, she had a good match,” said Moe, bringing over another round of drinks. 

“Yeah, I know,” said Ginny, glumly. “She took my spot.”

“ To bitches who steal Quidditch spots,” toasted Matthew. 

“ No, no,” protested Ginny. “ She's really nice. It was my fault, anyway. I'm happy that she did well. The important thing is that the Harpies won.” 

“ Oh sweety, I almost believed you,” grinned Matthew, clinking his glass against hers. “ Next time try adding a fist pump or something, like this. Harpies!!” he said, throwing a fist pump. 

“ Harpies!!” chorused the bar goers. 

Ginny giggled. “ Who needs men?” she asked. 

“ Me,” sighed Matthew. “ I love men. Well, one man.” 

“ Me too,” sighed Ginny. “ At least, I think so. It might be love. It kinda feels like a stomach ache. Is that love?” 

“Oh yeah,” nodded Matthew, signalling for more drinks. “ Welcome to the club.” 

They tossed more drinks down, and then decided to dance. They were quickly joined by more patrons, for word had got out that the Green Dragon Inn was the place to be tonight.

/*/*/*/*

“ Where the devil is she?” asked an exasperated Harry, for about the hundredth time that day. He'd been pacing up and down the castle all day, and even stormed down to the cottage, wondering if Dobby was protecting Ginny. But there was no sign of her at all. 

Dobby suddenly appeared in the lounge. “ Master, you must come now. It's Miss Ginny, I've found her!” 

Harry felt immediate relief. “ Thank Merlin. Is she all right?” 

Dobby shook his head. “ She and her friends are racing down main street on magic carpets!”

“ Is that all? She does that most days,” sighed Harry. 

“Not while she's intoxicated,” protested Dobby. 

Harry imagined her crashing and injuring herself. “ Dobby, take me to her now.” 

He held out his arm, and Dobby grabbed it, whisking the two to the main street in town.

/*/*/*/*

Harry and Dobby arrived at Auror Woody's office, and immediately saw the crowd gathered outside the Green Dragon Inn. It was as if everybody on the island had come to town tonight. 

Dobby nervously followed Harry, looking this way and that. There was no sign of Ginny, but there was a large crowd. 

“Hey, Doc, what's going on?” asked Harry, seeing the healer close by, smoking his familiar pipe. 

“ Evening,” greeted the healer. “ Seems that young lady of yours is looking for some fun tonight. She's set up an obstacle course down main street and challenged everyone to race her. Oh, don't worry, I'm keeping an eye on things, and Woody's around too, in case things get out of hand.” 

“ An obstacle course?” asked Harry. 

“ Yep,” chuckled Doc. “ Most fun we've had around here for ages. It's giving folks a chance to let their hair down, forget their troubles for a bit.” He leaned closer to confide - “ Waldorf is taking bets, but most money is going on your Harpy. Hell, I put ten galleons on her myself,” he said, winking. 

“ Go, Gaston!” Harry heard Drizella and Anastasia call out, followed by more cheers. 

“ He's the one to beat,” called Gene. “ He's been the best time so far.” 

“ Oy, my girl hasn't flown yet! Go on, Ginny, show 'em how it's done, girl.” Harry heard Matthew call out loyally, and he hurried through the crowd, hoping to stop her. 

“ Go,” called Moe. 

“ Nooo,” called Harry, pushing through in time to see Ginny take off. He grabbed Moe's arm. “You have to stop her, she's intoxicated,” he said vehemently. 

“ We're all intor-intrix-hell, we're all drunk,” grinned Gene, checking the time on his stopwatch. 

Meanwhile, Matthew had started a chant. “ Gin-ny, Gin-ny, Gin-ny,” he yelled, getting the crowd behind him. 

Harry grabbed his arm, ignoring Matthew's surprised look. “ You have to stop this,” he implored. “She could get hurt.” 

“ Listen, Stinchy, that sweet girl is already hurting, thanks to you. So you leave my girl be, and let her have some fun,” said Matthew loudly. 

Whispers immediately began, and got louder. “ It's him, Lord Stinchcombe! What happened to him? Look at his scars.” 

Dobby became all affronted on Harry's behalf. “ Harry Potter is a good man,” he bellowed, as loud as he could. 

Harry realised that, once again, he had forgotten to put on his hooded cloak, and now here he was, in main street, exposed for all to see. Ignoring their stares, he glanced down the yellow brick road, hoping for a glimpse of Ginny. 

Gaston was primping, with a witch on each arm, expecting to win. He clearly thought that men were better fliers than women. 

“ Weeeeee,” cried Ginny, as she came into view. She easily ducked and weaved around the obstacles Gene had set up, riding her carpet as if she'd been flying it for ages. 

“ How's the time?” asked Matthew to Gene. 

“ She's a minute and forty seconds ahead of Gaston's time,” smirked Gene. 

“ Well, what do you expect, she's a professional Harpy,” dismissed Gaston, trying to save face. Drizella and Anastasia nodded in a agreement, shooting their hateful gaze at her. 

“Can't stop,” yelled Ginny, gleefully. She did a barrel roll as she passed the start/finish line, and crashed into the drunken bar goers that were listening to the match earlier. They all laughed and cheered her, too drunk to feel any aches or pains. 

“ Ginny!” Harry and Doc both rushed over to her, but she jumped up. “ Nailed it,” she fist pumped. 

“ Ginny! Girlfriend, you are awesome,” cried Matthew, pushing Harry out of the way to get to her. 

“ Congratulations, Ginny girl, you won,” confirmed Gene. 

Matthew and Gene hoisted her on their shoulders and paraded her around the small area near the pub. The chant started up again, even Dobby joined in, although he shot looks at Harry to see if he approved or not. 

Harry watched in amusement. The townspeople had taken her to their hearts, just as he had. Merlin, she was wonderful. 

Finally they put her down, but she swayed and turned pale. Looking for an escape, she happened to see Harry. “ You,” she pointed. 

“ Ginny. You're intoxicated. You could have been injured, or worse,” he said, as she drunkenly swayed towards him. 

“ You,” she repeated. “ You're here, looking like...you.” 

He nodded. “ I was too worried about you to grab my cloak,” he explained. 

She stumbled over to him and he caught her as she tripped. “Maybe nobody's noticed you yet,” she said hopefully, albeit drunkenly. “ Stay still, I'll cover you so nobody sees ya.” She spread her arms out and bellowed, “ Nothing to see here.” Which of course, made everyone turn to see what she was talking about. 

He grabbed her arms and spun her around to face him. “ Ginny, it's fine, they've already seen me.” 

“ Did they say something...were they rude? Give me names, I'll Bat Bogey hex them,” she slurred determinedly, getting her wand out and looking around. She held the wand upside down as she looked around threateningly.

Harry wanted to laugh and cry at her protectiveness. “ Ginny, it's fine. There were whispers, but that's all.” 

“ Oh. Well good, cos I don't think I should cast any spells right now,” she said, swaying. She was turning green as he looked at her. “I'm a little bit drunk.” She giggled.

Matthew pushed through the crowd. “ Ginny! Is Stinchy bothering you. Want me to kick his very cute arse?” 

“ Stinchy,” she snickered, but then frowned and pointed at Matthew. “ Hey, you don't get to look at his cute arse, you've got your own coming on Monday.” Matthew shrugged and winked at Harry. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “ Erm, I think you need to get home.” 

“ Home,” said Ginny, suddenly morose. “I want to go home.” 

And she passed out. Harry caught her just in time.


	10. Getting Closer, Until...

Ginny yawned and stretched, then snuggled back under the blanket, all without opening her eyes. She felt something soft, so soft, brush against her cheek. She smiled and leaned into it, feeling it again. 

She heard a childish giggle and reluctantly opened her eyes, albeit slowly. She felt the softness again, and the giggle too. 

“Teddy, leave Ginny to sleep,” she heard Tonks admonish her son softly. 

“But Ma, she likes it, see.” Teddy brushed her cheek again and Ginny smiled. “Is she ever gonna wake up?” he asked his mother. 

“'m awake,” mumbled Ginny, then grimaced as her mouth felt disgusting. 

“Here, pet, there's a Sobering potion on your left,” said Tonks, in a mothering tone. 

Ginny fluttered her eyes open, wincing as she turned her head slightly to the left. Gingerly she lifted her arm out to grab the potion and bring it to her mouth. It was better than any she'd had before, acting instantly and leaving a clean minty freshness in her mouth. “It's good,” she said, putting the glass back and laying back in bed. 

“Harry, hey Harry, Ginny's awake,” cried Teddy, the little bear jumping up and down in excitement.

“So I see, Teddy,” said Harry. 

Ginny turned to see him standing in the doorway. His eyes looked dark, as though he hadn't slept well. Their eyes met and held. 

“Ginny, is it true you were racing magic carpets? Is it true you won?” asked Teddy, excitedly, the little bear bouncing on the bed next to her. “Will you take me with you next time?” 

“What? No, I didn't...did I?” Ginny looked at Tonks, then Harry. He looked troubled. 

“Come on, Teddy, let's leave Ginny to wake properly, yeah?” suggested Tonks quietly. 

“Aw Ma, I wanted to know if it's true Ginny did a barrel roll at the end,” whined Teddy, reluctantly clamouring off the bed. 

“Later, poppet,” said Tonks, making him giggle as she dusted him and ushered him out. Leaving Harry and Ginny alone. 

Ginny looked around. “Where am I?” she asked him. Although she knew she was in the castle, she hadn't seen this room before. 

Harry looked around. “It's my parent's bedroom,” he said softly. 

“Oh.” She looked around, anywhere but at him. “So, did I?” At Harry's puzzled look, she clarified. “What Teddy said. I don't really remember much after leaving the church,” she said. 

“I only arrived towards the end...in time to see you win the race,” he said. 

Her competitive nature kicked in and she smiled. “I did? I won?” 

“Yes, you did,” he replied, wandering over to the window and peering down. “You could have been hurt.”

“I'm fine, Harry,” she said softly. 

He turned to face her, his eyes full of pain. “You raced while intoxicated. Anything could have happened, you could have crashed, or fallen.” 

“But I didn't,” she said. She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, gingerly at first. When she ascertained she was steady, she simply sat there, watching him. “What's this all about, Harry?”

“YOU COULD HAVE BEEN HURT!” he bellowed, turning to glare at her. 

“I was already hurting,” she said pointedly. 

He flushed then looked defiant. “Don't you see, this is why you have to go! I can only hurt you more if you were to stay.”

“How? How could you possibly hurt me more if I stay?” asked Ginny, getting out of bed and walking over to him. 

He turned his back to her. “ Look at what happens to all those I love. I-I couldn't bear if something like that happened to you.”

Ginny grabbed his arm, surprising him with her strength as she spun him around. “So you won't even try?”

He grabbed her forearms. “I have felt the paternal love from my godfather, the familial love from Remus and Tonks. The innocent love of a child from Teddy. But my feelings for you...I've never felt anything like I feel for you.” He released her and turned away from her. 

Ginny sighed and, taking a chance, she rested her hand on his back, feeling him tense immediately. “So you want me to leave?”

He hung his head. “Want? No.” 

“Kiss me.”

He was sure he'd heard wrong. “What?” he gasped, spinning around to face her. 

“Kiss me. If I'm leaving, I want a kiss to remember you by,” she said. 

“I-I can't,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Scared?” she challenged. 

“Terrified,” he admitted. “That if I kiss you I'll never be able to let you go.”

“Then kiss me and never stop,” she said softly, stepping as close as she could and lifting her face to his. 

He cupped her cheeks in both hands and with a groan of defeat, he lowered his mouth to hers. Gentle at first, as he discovered the wonders of her lips, until he knew if they didn't stop soon, he wouldn't be able to stop at all. 

He tried to pull away; meant to pull away. But like a magnet, he was drawn to her. His mouth plundered hers, and she eagerly let him. Her arms slipped around her waist, her hands on his back. He pressed against her and she could feel how much he was being affected by their kiss. 

Harry had never known anything like this. This need to be as close to her as he could get. The need to discover the wonders that lay beneath the simple nightgown he'd transfigured for her last night.

He quickly realised she was pulling him over to the bed. “Ginny,” he whispered, reluctantly leaving her lips, “are you sure?” 

She stepped back and quickly pulled her nightgown over her head, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and knickers. “Very sure,” she assured him, reaching for him again. She pulled him down and they fell onto the bed. 

Somehow their clothes came off – had she banished them or did he? – and there was touching and kissing – Merlin, the kissing! He hitched his breath when Ginny pressed her lips to his scarred face, her hands caressing the damaged skin on his chest. 

It was better than anything they'd both dreamed of; a connection of minds and bodies. As they came together, became one for the first time, Harry felt something inside him he hadn't felt in a long time.   
Pure happiness. 

They lay together after, each needing the closeness of the other. Ginny's leg was thrown over his, and he stroked her arm, amazed at all the freckles that adorned her body. 

“Matthew was right, you do have a cute arse,” she murmured. 

He chuckled, burrowing his face against her neck. “I'm guessing Matthew would be an expert in the area?”

Ginny giggled. “I'll be happy to tell him he was right.”

He rolled over so he was on top of her. “I don't plan to let you leave this room any time soon,” he warned her. 

She raised her eyebrows. “Such stamina,” she admired, and he flushed. “You do realise you were probably conceived in this bed, don't you?” 

He winced, but was amused. “Thanks for that, that's an image I definitely don't need.”

She looked up at the empty frame on the wall above the bed. “At least they gave us some privacy.”

“I'm sure Tonks may have said something after she left us earlier,” sighed Harry. “She was going to 'dust' in my grandparent's wing.”

“Oh dear, your mum is really going to be giving me the evil eye, then,” said Ginny. 

Harry kissed her softly, then shifted to his side and leaned on an elbow. He gently brushed her hair behind her ear. “We can go to my room if you like, but I really don't want to move.”

“Me either,” said Ginny, running her hand over his chest. “Ever,” she said, reaching up to cup the back of his head and bring it close to her. 

“We'll have to get up sometime,” he murmured, nibbling her earlobe. 

“Not today,” she disagreed, wriggling under him. She giggled as she felt him harden again, and they began the dance all over again. 

/*/*/*/*

Hunger of a different kind couldn't be abated with just their passion, so much later they headied to the kitchen for a very late lunch or early dinner. They kindly dismissed Dobby's offer of help, preparing their meal together. 

The house elf watched them, fully aware that things had changed. They bumped hips as they prepared a simple meal, using any opportunity to touch each other. They ate their meal at the table, sitting opposite each other, but Dobby could see Ginny had her feet on Harry's. 

“Is there anything Dobby can be doing for you both?” he asked them. 

There was a tapping at the window, and they all turned to see Hedwig at the window, a letter in her talons. “Can you let Hedwig in, please Dobby?” requested Harry. 

The elf clicked his fingers, opening the window to allow Hedwig to enter. She flew to Ginny to relieve her letter, who took it, thanking the owl before she read the front. Ginny turned it over to see who had sent it, and she stiffened, then opened it. Dobby then returned to provide Hedwig with water. The owl hooted gratefully. 

“Everything okay?” asked Harry, watching her. 

“It's from Gwenog, the Harpies coach,” she said, reading the note again. She put the letter down. “I've been recalled.” 

There was silence. Ginny didn't look at him, she picked up the letter again. “Our Seeker, Georgia, was injured in the match yesterday, so Gwenog needs to reshuffle the team. There's no guarantee I'll play, and I have to get clearance from Healer Flynn and the DMSG, but...they want me in Holyhead. ASAP.” She held up a toy whistle that had come with the letter. “It's a Portkey.”

Harry didn't know what to say. Unbidden came the thought that his time with Ginny had been too good to be true. “Oh,” was all he finally managed to gather his thoughts. 

“I'm probably not at match fitness, anyway,” she shrugged. “They're training with a full squad, to pick their best team.”

“That's great,” he finally managed to say. 

“It's ten days till the final, and if I make the team and the Harpies win, it will mean more time away, promotional tours, sponsor functions, that sort of thing.” 

“Ginny-”

“I'd be in lock-down, unable to see you or contact you. I'd miss you so much,” she said. 

“Ginny, you have to go. This is the reason you came here, remember? To work out your issues so you could play Quidditch again,” reminded Harry. 

“I might not even get cleared by the mind healer,” said Ginny. “I'd be cut straight away.”

“Then you could come home...to me,” he said. He swallowed nervously. “If you wanted to.”

“Of course I would. I can barely think about my life back there. I mean, yes, I miss my family, but, you...” She smiled weakly at him, unable to say the words she really wanted to.

He moved around to sit next to her, putting his arm around her. “You have to go,” he repeated. 

“I know,” she smiled, through her tears. “But for the first time, I feel as though I found somewhere I belong. ”

“Come on,” he said gently. “You need to get dressed and leave. Dobby can pack your belongings.”  
He stood and held out his hand, and then Apparated them both to her cottage. 

She dressed quickly, as Dobby packed for her. Harry stared out over the water, not bearing to see her prepare to leave. It wasn't long till she came out looking for him. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

“No,” she smiled faintly. 

He took her in his arms. “You've changed my life, Ginny Weasley,” he whispered, then kissed her passionately. 

“I haven't said goodbye to anyone,” she realised, as she prepared to leave. “Asim, your family, Tonks and Teddy. Matthew – oh, he wanted me to meet his boyfriend! Gene, Doc –“ Merlin, there were so many more people. Hansel, Gretel, Gepetto...

“I'll tell everyone, I promise. And you know we'll all be listening to your match. We'll all be cheering for our Harpy's champion,” he vowed. 

She flung her arms around him. “I'll come back, as soon as I can.”

Harry nodded, his throat thick as he tried desperately to believe her. “You're going to be brilliant out there.”

She kissed him one last time. “Don't forget about me,” she said bravely. 

He shook his head. “Never.” Impossible.

“Here, Miss Ginny. Dobby wishes you every success,” said Dobby, handing her the bag. 

Ginny hugged the little elf. “You were the first person I met here, Dobby. I'll miss you.”

Dobby's eyes welled, and he sniffed. “Begging pardon miss, but D-Dobby must g-g-go,” he said, and he popped away. 

“You've made quite an impact on this island since you've been here,” noted Harry. 

“I will be back,” she said, fiercely. 

“I'll be waiting for you...always,” he whispered, as he activated the Portkey. 

They spent their last seconds staring at each other, as if trying to memorise every feature of their appearance. Then Harry blinked, and she was gone. 

He wandered back into the cottage, her scent still in the rooms. He wandered into the kitchenette, then the bathroom and bedroom. In her wardrobe he found a small sprig of lavender, hanging there. He took it down and held it between his fingers. Keeping hold of it, he Apparated back to the castle, arriving in his workshop.

“Sssso, she hassss gone,” hissed Asim. 

“Yessss. She wassss recalled by the Harpiessss,” said Harry. “She didn't have time to ssssay goodbye.” He hung the lavender by the window, hoping a breeze would send the aromatic fragrance through the workshop to remind him of her. Not that he needed it. She was and would be, forever in his heart. 

“And she will return?” asked the snake. 

“We'll have to wait and ssssee, my friend,” said Harry. 

POP Dobby appeared suddenly. “Master Harry, you won't believe it!”

“Not now, Dobby,” sighed Harry. “I have to go and tell a whole lot of people that Ginny has gone. I hope to be back by dinner.” With that, he Apparated away.

Dobby turned to Asim. “Look!” he said to the snake. Asim lifted her head interestedly. From behind his back, Dobby pulled out a magnificent rose. It was flawless, a deep red. “Dobby is be picking this off a rose bush on the grounds. A rose bush with many more buds,” said Dobby, excitedly. 

“The cursssse. It issss breaking,” hissed Asim in surprise. 

Of course, Dobby had no idea what the snake was saying. The house elf popped back to the cottage, placing the rose in a glass dome. It would stay eternally fresh.

It would be a nice surprise for Miss Ginny if – no, no – when she returned. 

/*/*/*/*

Molly watched her daughter all night. While Ginny had been surprised that the Portkey had brought her to the Burrow instead of Holyhead, Molly had been forewarned. Still, as she hugged and fussed over her daughter, she got the feeling that something was different about Ginny. 

Molly had had time to invite all the family over for dinner, for she was sure that Ginny would be cleared to fly for the Harpies. She didn't know what her daughter would do if she didn't. Since the battle, since the end of her school days, Molly had gotten the feeling that there was so much more going on in Ginny's head that she let on, but she was able to disguise any ills by using Quidditch as an excuse. 

Even now, with the family surrounding her, talking over one another, plates being handed down and across the table, Ginny was content to simply take it all in. She held Victoire and fussed over Dominique and little Molly, but then was lost in her thoughts and had to be prodded to join the conversation. 

Molly had shooed them all out after dinner, and naturally, one of her brothers suggested a Quidditch match, two on two. Ginny and Bill teamed up against George and Ron, with Percy refereeing. But when Ginny wandered in not fifteen minutes later, saying Percy had taken her place, Molly knew something was up. She and Arthur exchanged a look before Arthur mentioned going to his shed. 

“Mum, what do you know about Lily and James Potter. Before, you know, that night?” she asked, taking a sleepy Dominique from her dad's arms as he made his escape. 

Molly hadn't been expecting that. “Well now, we never met them, but we knew of them, through my brothers, Gideon and Fabian.” She paused, their murders still painful to bear. “They were good people, so young...they should have had a lifetime of love in front of them. I heard James was a bit of a prankster, but he was a good husband to Lily. He adored her, you know,” said Molly. 

Yes, Ginny did know. “Do you know much about Fogsworth Island?” asked Ginny. 

“Only that the island is under a terrible curse from a dark witch,” said Molly, wiping down the counters in the kitchen while she set the dishes to be washed. “A beast prowls around the island, terrorising the locals, forcing them to leave. The island is barren, on the verge of eternal darkness.”

“Mum, that witch was Bellatrix. The curse began on that All Hallow's Eve night, after Tom killed the Potters. It's been slowly getting worse, even more so after Harry and Dumbledore fought Tom in the Ministry of Magic,” cried Ginny. 

Molly came from the kitchen to the lounge, staring at Ginny in surprise. “How do you know all this?” 

“ Mum, all that other stuff is a lie. There is no beast, it's Harry. Bellatrix has scarred him in many duels over the years, so he stays hidden under a cloak. The island is slowly being covered by a thick grey fog, forcing locals to leave so they can earn a living. With no sunshine and rain, they have no way to grow crops and raise animals. They have to source most of their foodstuffs from the mainland, er, London,” said Ginny. 

“Harry? Harry Potter? But-he's just a boy, no older than Ron, surely? You're saying he was there, the night Dumbledore died?” asked Molly, shocked. 

Ginny nodded. “After his parents were killed, he was sent to stay with horrible Muggle relatives, who hated anything to do with our world. Harry never knew a caring or kind word, till his godfather took him from there shortly before his eleventh birthday.”

Molly nodded, sinking into a chair near Ginny. “The house we stayed at for awhile over the summer your fourth of fifth year, that was Sirius' family home. It was the only time I met him...or Harry. Such a dear, thanked my for the meal I prepared for him. Merlin knows, he looked like he needed it. Thin as a rail he was,” sighed Molly. A boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Oh how Molly wanted to offer whatever comfort she could to the too polite boy, in whatever way she could. 

“Bellatrix lured him to the Ministry, saying they had Sirius. Instead, they used Harry's blood to return Tom to a body. Sirius and Remus arrived soon after Dumbledore. Bellatrix fought Harry and cursed him further, saying he was a fool for caring about his godfather. That love was his weakness, his curse. She nearly killed him that night, and he thought she killed Sirius. He fell through a veil.”

“Yes, that was the night we lost Dumbledore. Poor boy, having lost his parents, then his godfather. Who did he have left?” asked Molly. 

“Another of his father's friends, Remus Lupin, he was my DADA professor my second year. He took Harry under his wing as they grieved. Then Harry said he had to find certain objects in order to make Tom human again. Only then could he be defeated. They found the last one at Hogwarts, and that's what started the final battle. Mum, Harry told me these objects were called Horcruxes. I remember hearing dad mention them. The diary, Tom's diary, it was one of these Horcruxes. A part of his soul,” cried Ginny. 

Molly nodded. “Dumbledore told us. A Horcrux is a terrible magic, the darkest of dark magics,” she shuddered. 

“Mum, the people on the island are so wonderful. I made so many friends. Did you know it's really Stinchcombe Island, named for one of Harry's ancestors. Harry is the current Lord Stinchcombe, and he's desperate to find a way to break the curse. Harry says – “

“Seems Harry made quite an impression on you,” noted Molly, at her flushed face. 

Ginny stopped talking. 

Molly brushed her hand over Dominique's head. “You've always had the ability to make friends easily, much more than Ron. There's something about you that draws people to you. It's quite a gift, my darling.”

“Mum...I went to the island, expecting to do my penance. I've been so...angry, so frustrated since the battle, since...Bellatrix. I just don't know where I belonged. Was it in Wales, with the Harpies? It's my dream career, but lately, I don't know.”

“You finally found somewhere you belong,” guessed Molly gently. 

Ginny nodded, looking into her mother's wise eyes. “I found friends. I found a community that I want to help. Suddenly, Quidditch doesn't seem that important any more.”

“And...?” encouraged Molly. Ginny nodded, smiling tearfully. 

“And I found a man who I love. Who has been hurt so bad, but is trying to help the people who still fear him, or rather, his 'beast' legend. Mum, we made a newer version of the Wolfsbane potion, and it worked. Now, we're going to work on the Cruciatus curse, trying to alleviate the long term effects,” she said excitedly. 

“So you're returning to Fogsworth Island?” asked Molly, smiling despite her heart breaking. Her daughter was glowing, and in love. 

“Stinchcombe Island,” corrected Ginny. She nodded slowly. “Mum, I didn't even really want to come back, and even now, I can't wait to go home, to him.”

“But Ginny, it's the final...you've worked so hard to make it,” said Molly in surprise. 

“That's what Harry said. I know he's right, and I don't want to have any regrets. But Mum, as soon as I can, I plan to return to the island,” said Ginny. 

“Are you – has he proposed?” asked Molly. 

Ginny smiled and shook her head. “No...but we both know it's forever. Didn't you and Dad just know?” 

Molly smiled and looked down at the sleeping baby. “Yes. I knew your father was a good man, despite him pushing me away. Some nonsense about not having much money, not being able to give me all I deserve. Bless him, he's provided for all of us, and gave us this wonderful home. I wouldn't change a thing. All I ever wanted was him. He's a prince among men, my Arthur. Is your Harry like that?” asked Molly. 

“Yes,” whispered Ginny, her eyes welling with tears. “He's been hurt over and over, physically, verbally, magically. He's so scarred, Mum. On his face, his shoulders and chest. I ache to take away his hurt, and make him happy.” 

“Then I'll be needing to meet this man of yours, who's taking my only daughter away from me,” sniffed Molly. “I daresay your father and brothers will be wanting a word with him too.”

“They better not say anything to upset him,” warned Ginny, “or they'll have me to deal with. Harry would love the idea of being part of a real family. He only has a snake and a house elf for company, although his parents and grandparents are in portraits in the west wing of the castle.”

“Castle? Wing?” asked Molly. 

Ginny nodded. “During the final battle, the curse began to increase. Remus Lupin was cursed, we all thought he died, but he and Sirius Black have turned to stone, and they guard the entrance to the castle. Remus's wife, Tonks, and their son, Teddy were turned, too. Teddy became a teddy bear, and Tonks became a feather duster, quite a colourful one. Mum, I have to help them all, I have to find a way to break the curse,” cried a desperate Ginny. 

“Well now, your brother Bill may be having an idea or two about that...but he's still flying. Why don't we put our Weasley witches heads together, and see what we can come up with ourselves. Let's start by you telling me Bellatrix's exact words,” said Molly. 

Ginny hugged her mother, mindful of the sleeping baby between them. “Thanks, Mum. And you know that recipe of yours, for the pumpkin seed bread? Can you copy it for me to take back to the island? Dobbys was nice, but just seemed to be missing something. Oh, and you have to come visit, meet Matthew. He makes the best muffins. And then there's Gepetto, and Gene, they've been helping me...”

Molly smiled as her daughter ran on and on. Yes, Ginny had found her place, and even thought it meant she was going away, she had never seen her daughter more happy and content. 

“What time is your healer's appointment tomorrow?” asked Molly. 

“Ten. I've been told if I pass, I'll be expected immediately at Holyhead. Otherwise, I'll still go there, pack my stuff, then leave,” replied Ginny. 

“You'll go straight there?” asked Molly, in dismay. 

“No. I'll have to owl Harry to send me a Portkey, unless the healer can give me one, like last time. Might take a day, two at the most,” said Ginny. 

“Darling, you're sure,” said Molly, once again. 

Ginny nodded. “I belong there, with him. Helping him, loving him.”

Molly leaned over to kiss her forehead, as if she was a little girl again. “I'm happy you're happy. Now, tell me what Bellatrix actually said to Harry.”

When the Weasley men came in an hour later, they learned of Ginny's happy news. Although surprised and disappointed she would be living quite a distance away, they could see how happy she was. They still wanted to meet this Harry though, to make sure he was worthy of their sister and daughter. 

Bill listened to her tale of the curse and offered few solutions. He promised to come to the island himself to see what he could do to help, once Dominique was a bit older. 

But they all agreed that the key ingredient in breaking the curse had to do with love. 

But how that could fix the town's curse, Ginny didn't know.


	11. Cleared to Play?

Ginny sat nervously outside Healer Flynn's office, drumming her hands on her laps as she waited for her appointment. She hadn't slept well the night before, despite a good long chat with her mother. Thinking about this appointment had taken Ginny back to the last time she was here. So much had changed since then. She had changed so much since then. 

She had lain awake in her childhood bedroom, restless. In the end, like so many nights before, she climbed out her window, sitting on the roof. In the distance she could see the family's Quidditch pitch and the hoops. Down below she could see her father's shed, the chicken coop and her mother's garden. 

She leaned against the shutter of her window, wondering what Harry was doing now. Was he thinking of her, missing her? She closed her eyes, and willed all her thoughts to him. 

She climbed back inside, knowing she needed to get to sleep. As she passed her desk on the way to bed, a photo caught her eye. A group of friends, including herself, waving. It was taken in the Gryffindor common room, yet Ginny giggled as Hermione shot Luna an annoyed look. The Head Girl never did learn how Luna was able to enter their common room. 

Ginny picked up the photo, noting how small Dennis looked. How stressed Ron, Hermione and the rest of the seventh years looked. How Demelza winced as she raised his shoulder to wave. Neville waved too, before realising he'd lost Trevor. After Colin had taken the photo, they'd all split up to find the adventurous toad. 

It was then that Ginny realised that, as much as she had hated using the dark curses Tom had taught her, she would do the same again to protect her family and friends. Always.

“Ginny?”

She looked up to see Healer Flynn looking at her questioningly, so she assumed he had been calling her before. She smiled apologetically and rose to follow him into his office. She took a seat when he gestured and sat, waiting. 

“You look well,” noted the healer. 

Ginny thought of Harry and smiled. “Thank you,” she said. 

He sat back, studying her. He picked up some parchment, and Ginny recognised her own writing on them. It was her replies to his questions. 

“How did you like the island?” he asked. 

“Why didn't you correct me when I called it Fogsworth Island?” Ginny answered his question with a question. 

He shrugged. “A rose by any other name is still a rose,” he replied. 

“Pardon?” asked Ginny. 

He brushed her away, fingering a letter from his brother. “You certainly made a lot of friends of the townspeople,” he noted. 

“They were very welcoming. Some more than others,” she added, thinking of Matthew and Gepetto.   
She smiled again, thinking of Harry and his initial brusqueness. 

“Your replies to my letters were surprisingly lengthy, well, the second one needed some prompting,” he teased. 

“It was actually quite cathartic, writing down my thoughts and feelings,” she revealed. 

“You didn't answer my last one. Perhaps we can talk about that now. What have you learned about yourself, since you've been away?” he asked. 

Ginny took a breath, and a minute to really think about it. “A lot. I've learned that I can adapt pretty well to any situation. That I'm strong, maybe stronger than even I thought I was. That I can make friends, good friends that I know I'll have forever.”

Healer Flynn nodded encouragingly. “I left so suddenly, I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye,” she told him sadly. “Except for Harry.”

“Aah, yes, Harry. What did you think of him?” asked the healer interestedly. 

“Sad. Lonely. Tragic, what happened to him. He's such a wonderful person, despite all that he's lost. He's convinced the curse is all his fault,” she said. 

“Yes. Surprising isn't it, how Bellatrix Lestrange has played such a part in both your lives?” 

Ginny nodded. “When we talked about it, about our pasts, for the first time I knew I was talking with someone who understood me. Who understood what it felt like, to know the darkness. To know what it was like to, to...” She bit her lip and stopped. 

“To take a life?” guessed the healer. He'd long known Ginny needed to fully understand what she'd done and learn to forgive herself, just as Harry needed to learn to let love in. 

“I think I finally realised that, if I had to do it all again, I wouldn't change a thing. We were chidren, forced into a war. A war that was fought in our school. I know now that if it came to protecting my family, my friends...I'd do it all again. Even if it meant killing Bellatrix again,” she said, then drew in a heavy breath and exhaled loudly. 

“Good, good,” he nodded. “You have to understand, you were forced into a horrible position. No child should have to go through what you children at Hogwarts went through that year,” he sympathised. 

“It was true, it was horrific, but there are children out there, even in the Muggle world that deal with abuse and trauma every day. Even from someone that is supposed to protect them,” she said. 

“You're talking about Harry,” clarified Healer Flynn. 

Ginny nodded, her eyes flashing angrily. “I can't believe they would send him away to Muggles, and not keep watch over him. Somebody...anybody would have been better for him than his so-called family,” she said. 

The healer nodded but said nothing. Ginny sighed. “I think I felt like I had to be punished for taking a life. I mean, I know she was evil and dark, but I did the unthinkable, and then I get to simply go on and have a brilliant life? I kept waiting for that tap on my shoulder that somewhere down the line, I would have to pay for what I did,” said Ginny in frustration. 

“Have you gone on to have a brilliant life? I know the world of Quidditch seems glamorous to us outsiders, but –“

“Ha! It's anything but glamorous,” exclaimed Ginny. “The training, the lack of privacy.”

“Exactly. Ginny, you deserve a brilliant life. All of you who survived the battle, the war, deserve it. You've paid your penance by driving yourself to succeed, at the cost of time with your family. At a cost to your inner peace. Ginny, you were faced with a terrible situation and you reacted accordingly. You wanted to live. You, Ginny Weasley, are a survivor. Don't let Bellatrix take that away from you. It gives her a power over you, even from beyond the grave,” he said solemnly. 

Tears sprang from Ginny's eyes. “Thanks. I-I never thought of it that way.” She tried to wipe away the tears but they kept falling. The healer summoned a box of tissues, and stood to pour her a glass of water, offering her time to pull herself together. He handed the glass to her, smiling kindly as she took it. 

She sipped, then looked at him. “You're good,” she acknowledged. 

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “It's taken you years to deal with this. Imagine if you'd been this open with me when you were eleven, twelve?” he gently teased. “Or seventeen.”

Ginny offered a half smile. “The thing is, if I had dealt with all this back then, I never would have gone to the island. Never would have met Matthew, Gene and Doc. Never met Gepetto, Hansel or Gretel. Never met Harry.” 

“You and Harry have become close, I see,” noted the healer. 

Ginny leaned forward. “I want to help him break the curse. Break it, and bring back sunshine, bring back the rain. Do you have any idea how to fix it?” 

“I have told Harry my thoughts on the curse. 'Love will be his curse and salvation'. It's quite simple. He needs to learn to let love in again. However, he refuses to believe its that easy,” mused the healer. 

“He told me he would never risk anyone he cares about falling under the curse, so it's easier to simply not let anyone close. He would rather stay alone and lonely in that run down old castle, with a house elf and a snake for company,” said Ginny. 

“Yes. It would take rather a strong witch to break through his mind set, I'd imagine,” said Healer Flynn. “I don't know too many that would bother.”

“Bother? It's no bother to love him,” cried Ginny, indignantly. “He works selflessly for those affected by the werewolf gene, he's trying to make a potion to help those with long term spell damage. He's desperate to return Stinchcombe Island to the way it was, the way it should be. He's a kind, gentle man, despite the way he was brought up!” her eyes blazed and her nostrils flared. 

“You love him,” said the healer gently. 

“I-I-” Ginny gaped, then nodded. “I do. I love him. I want to see him smile, want to make him smile. Have you seen him smile? He has a nice smile, and a lovely laugh. I told him he should laugh more often. I'm rambling, aren't I?” she asked. 

The healer sat back in his chair. “I can honestly say I have never seen Harry laugh. A sad sort of smile, yes. Usually when talking about his parents, his godfather and their friends.”

“They're all so wonderful, and none of them blame him for the curse, nor do the townspeople. Oh, I know some called him beast, but if they simply got to know him as I do, as your brother does, they'd know he's an amazing man with a huge capacity to love,” said Ginny. 

“Then it seems you have your work cut out for you, Ginny,” noted the healer. 

“He sent me away. Told me I had to come back, play Quidditch. I know he's right, but I miss him so much,” she said sadly. 

“It is only for ten days. Don't have any regrets in life, Ginny. What's ten days when compared to a lifetime?” asked the healer. He scribbled something down on some parchment. “Now, I expect to see a Harpies victory, young lady. I'm a huge fan.” He handed her the parchment and a Portkey.

“You're clearing me to play?” asked Ginny, seeing the letter was addressed to Gwenog. 

The healer nodded. “Yes, and I'll forward the appropriate paperwork to the Department of Sports and Magical Games. You're all cleared to return to Holyhead, Ginny.”

“Oh, thank you,” gasped Ginny, sincerely. 

He smiled at her. “Don't thank me, you did all the work,” he replied. 

She shook her head. “Thank you...for sending me to the island. To Harry.”

She set off the Portkey, and with a wave, disappeared. “I had a hunch about you two,” murmured Healer Flynn, to the empty room. He pulled some more parchment towards him, deciding to write to his brother before he wrote the offical clearance letter to the Ministry. 

/*/*/*/*

Ginny was greeted with a rousing cheer when she joined her teammates for her first training sesssion. It was a full squad, apart from three injured players, one from the reserves, a beater, and two from the senior team – one chaser and a beater. 

Ginny was under the microscope right from the start. For the next week Gwenog pushed her mercilessly. If the team did five stair runs, Ginny had to do eight. If the team ran two laps of the pitch, Ginny had to run four. If the team did an hour in the weights room, Ginny did two. She was pushed and prodded, but she took it all. Most of the times she had to bite her tongue, but this was too important to throw away. This was her chance, her only chance. Plus it took her mind off Harry. 

It was when she was flying that she finally broke. Ginny realised she had gotten so used to the new broom she'd crafted that the old one just wasn't working as well. She had no problems with the plays they were testing, but the old one just didn't feel as natural as her newer one. So when Gwenog queried her commitment as she was forced to pull out of a turn, Ginny snapped. 

The whole team came to a halt as Ginny lambasted Gwenog. “How dare you question my commitment. I want this more than I want just about anything. It's my broom that's the problem, not me. I have done everything you've asked of me, without fail, so BACK OFF!” she roared. 

Gwenog blew her whistle. “Team, to the ground. NOW!”

Ginny gulped, already regretting her outburst. A couple of team mates flew past, giving her sympathetic looks, or pats on the shoulder. A couple looked scared, for Gwenog in a rant wasn't pretty.

“If we have to do extra laps for you, Weasley, you'll pay,” hissed Jennifer, the replacement Seeker. 

“Bite me,” hissed Ginny under her breath. She landed and picked up her broom, hoping she'd get the time to see if she could replicate the sequence of charms they'd placed on her new broom on the island. She joined her teammates, gathered around Gwenog. 

“Who are we?” asked Gwenog. 

The women looked at each other, confused. “Harpies?” asked one of them hopefully. 

“I didn't hear you,” said Gwenog, sharply. “Who are we?” 

“Harpies,” chorused the team. 

“Tell me again. WHO ARE WE?” demanded Gwenog. 

“HARPIES!” yelled the women. 

“Then it's about time we started acting like them. You all just heard what Weasley said up there?”

“I think everyone in Wales heard,” snickered Jennifer, unkindly. She shot Ginny a triumphant smirk, expecting her to be in trouble. 

“Weasley's right. I've been pushing her hard, trying to see if she's up for the challenge. Six weeks out of the game, and she's still got the fire that it's going to take to win this damn thing. Who else has got that fire?” she demanded, looking at the women individually. 

“Me! Me, Coach,” replied her team mates. They clapped, rousing each other up. Gwenog watched them, nodding. 

“We may not be a team of champions,” she told them quietly, referring to Falmouth Falcon's high profile flyers, “but we can be a champion team. I know we can do this, I know you can do this. I just need YOU all to know YOU CAN DO THIS!” 

“Yeah, we can. Hell, yeah. Go Harpies,” they called out one by one. 

“That's more like it,” grinned Gwenog in satisfaction. “Now, this game isn't going to be won down here, get back in the air,” she ordered. They all flew back up, a new energy amongst them. “Not you, Weasley,” corrected Gwenog, stopping her. “ Go get that broom fixed. You'll need it to be perfect for the match.” 

Ginny's heart leaped. “I made it?” she asked, in almost a whisper. 

Gwenog smiled. “Team selection will be later on, but yeah, you're in. Now go. I want that broom fixed, your turning charm needs work.”

“Yes, Coach,” cried Ginny, resisting the urge to hug Gwenog then and there. Gwenog seemed to know what she was thinking and stepped back to prevent it, gesturing with her head to get inside to work on her broom. 

Ginny left the field and headed for the change rooms. “Yes!” she fist pumped, almost jumping in the air. 

“You do that a lot, girlie.”

Ginny looked up, then flung her broom down. “Gepetto! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she grabbed the older man in for a hug. 

He patted her on the back, almost paternally. “Hope that's not the usual way you treat your brooms now, girlie,” he teased. 

“Oh! No, I was just so surprised, so happy to see you,” said Ginny, picking up her fallen broom. She handed it to Gepetto when he held his hand out for it. 

“Mmm, I can see why you like this one. It's good, and you've looked after it well. Still, after all the time we spent on your new broom, I figured you may as well have it, assuming you make the team,” he said. He clicked his fingers and her new broom appeared. He handed it over to her, enclosed in a long bag for protection. It was heavier than she expected. 

“I did. Gwenog just told me,” confided Ginny, happy to have her new broom back. “I can't believe you're here. Are you alone? Did anyone else come with you?” she asked, suddenly in hope. 

He shook his head. “Just came to deliver your broom. Figure I'll stay for the match. Your team looks a little haphazard, but I've got a good feeling about you.”

“We need to reshuffle the line up due to injury,” defended Ginny. “That's never good, let alone for the biggest match of the year. Don't count us out. We're Harpies!” she said proudly. 

Gepetto nodded. “My money's on you, girlie. You'll do us proud, win or lose.”

“Us?” asked Ginny. 

“Stinchies,” winked Gepetto. “The name has really taken off. Well, best be off.”

“Wait,” cried Ginny, grabbing his arm. “How is everyone? Gene, Aladdin? Matthew, oh, did his boyfriend turn up, is it going well?” she asked. 

“We're all fine, girlie. Matthew and his fancy pants boyfriend, sorry, life partner, are doing well. Moved into a little cottage on Drury Lane. The Muffin Man said to tell you hi,” recounted Gepetto. 

“What about Harry?” asked Ginny. “Have you seen Harry?” 

“Who?” asked Gepetto. 

Ginny swallowed. “The one they call the beast. Have you seen him?”

Gepetto shook his head. “No, sorry. Erm, you are coming back to the island, aren't you?” he asked. 

“Yes, absolutely. As soon as I possibly can,” cried Ginny, thinking of Harry. 

Gepetto sighed in relief. “Good. Just so you know, we all miss you,” he said his voice suddenly gruff. “And they'll all be listening on Saturday.”

Ginny hugged him again. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“You can do it, Stinchy,” he whispered back, then with a wink, he let her go and disappeared. 

“WEASLEY? HOW MUCH LONGER?” yelled Gwenog. 

“COMING, COACH,” yelled Ginny in reply, sinking on to the bench to open her broom bag. She unzipped it, only to find two brooms inside, and a pile of letters. On one of the brooms was a note - 

'It's always good to have a back up. This is an exact replication for yours. Pluck some Falcon's feather's – Gepetto. 

Ginny smiled then looked at the letters. To her surprise, it was as if the entire town had written her. With her heart in her mouth, she searched for Harry's familiar writing, but found nothing. 

“WEASLEY?” screamed Gwenog. 

Ginny zipped the bag back up, she'd have to read the letters later. She picked up her new broom and happily flew it back out and up to join her teammates. 

/*/*/*/*/*

They were in lockdown for the forty eight hours before the match. Ginny had only managed a quick firecall to the Burrow, where Molly tried to fill her in on as much Weasley news in the two minutes she'd been allocated. Unfortunately, as she recounted Victoire's latest achievement of tying her shoes all by herself, the fire began dwindling. 

“Mum, Dad, love you,” called Ginny, desperate to get a word in. 

“Ginny, oh dear, we're nearly out of time. “We'll all be there, darling, we're so proud of you. Bill and Charlie, Percy and George, Ro-”

“For heaven's sake, Molly. Ginbug, we all love you. Show the world what my girl can do, yeah?” grinned Arthur. 

“I will, Dad. Good-” The flames flickered and died. “- bye,” she finished, staring at the low grate. 

“About time,” groused Jennifer, from the doorway. “Come on, Gwenog's ordered us tea, and we're going to watch some Muggle movie. Apparantly it's to help with team bonding,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

The tea was pizza, and the movie was 'The Wizard of Oz.' There was a lot of discussion early in the movie about the way Muggles depict witches, but by the time the scarecrow came into the scene, they were sitting quietly, enraptured. When it ended, their eyes flickered as Gwenog turned the lights back on. 

“And what did we learn from this movie?” she asked. 

“Muggles know shit about witches and wizards,” said Stephanie, a beater. 

“Well, it was all about the shoes, wasn't it? Two women fighting over shoes,” guessed Jennifer. Amy and Jessica giggled. “They were nice shoes.”

“Team work,” said Ginny. “When they worked together, Dorothy and her new friends helped each other and made their way to the Emerald City.”

Gwenog nodded. “Together, they achieved their goal, and in the end, they got what they wanted. Together, they got what they worked for.”

“A brain.”

“A heart.”

“The courage.”

“Victory.” They all looked at Ginny, who shrugged. “I want victory. Who's with me?” She held out her hand and waited. One by one, her teammates piled their hands on hers. “Gwenog?” asked Ginny. 

Gwenog placed her hand on top of her team's. “On the count of three. One, two, three – Go-”

“HARPIES!” they all cried, raising their hands in the air. 

/*/*/*/*

The night before the big match, Ginny couldn't sleep. She had re-read all the letters from her friends on the island, all telling her how much they missed her, and wished her every success for her team. 

Gene had gone over the charm sequence of her broom and told her Statler and Waldorf had given up their chess matches for racing down the street on his magic carpets. Seemed she and Matt had started something. Doc was busier than ever, for one or the other seemed to have trouble on the turns and the finishes, usually ending up crashing. 

Matthew's letter was all about his life partner, Heston. How he'd given up the Muggle celebrity life for a life on the island with Matthew. How they were going to open their own bakery, specialising in cakes. Matthew added a postscript, offering to make her wedding cake “if the Beast, and I mean that in every sense, ever comes around.”

Hansel and Gretel mentioned they had visited Harry, but that was all. Their letter was about school, and the latest trouble Sid had caused. Hansel had drawn a picture of Asim at the bottom and Gretel a picture of Dobby. She fell asleep, clutching their letter. 

When she woke, a magnificent rose was on her bedside table, it's fragrance strong and heavenly. A red ribbon was wrapped around the stem, and with trembling fingers, she opened the letter that accompanied it. 

'Dearest Ginny. Best wishes for the match today. Yours, Harry.'

Ginny picked up the rose and smelt it. “Mine,” she whispered, running her finger over his words. 

She carefully lay the rose back on her bedside table, and jumped out of bed, heading for the shower. 

It was match day, and she had a championship to win!

/*/*/*/*

She tucked his letter inside her bra. In the minutes before they flew out to the pitch, each team member had a pre-game ritual. Some walked around, some listened to music, some liked to talk. Ginny found a corner to sit in and close her eyes. She cleared her mind of any outside distractions. She'd worked for this. She wanted this. She was totally focused on what she had to do. She took some deep breaths, then her eyes flew open as she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

“Weasley.” Her eyes flew open. It was Gwenog. “It's time.”

Ginny nodded, and accepted her coach's hand to stand. She held out her hand for her broom and it flew into her hand. The team started to fly out as their names were called out, in alphabetical order. 

“...and...WEASLEY!” The crowd went wild, for unknown to Ginny, the papers had been full of news of her return, speculating on where she had been, should she have made the team, had she had specialised coaching in her absence, was her absence merely a ploy to rest her and save her for the final. Luckily she had been spared all that, although her family had been hounded by the press, desperate for any sniff of a story. 

Ginny flew past the family box, immensely glad to see all her family, instantly recognisable with their red hair clashing with the green and gold colours of the Harpies. She waved, drawing her hand to a fist pump, which all her brother's recriprocated with. Her mother was jumping up and down, telling everyone nearby her that was her daughter out there, making Ginny grin. Her dad had never looked so proud, waving his homemade foam finger, proclaiming the Harpies to be number one. Unfortunately, he'd made the wrong finger, so it looked like he was giving everyone the finger!

Ginny had never loved her family more than she did right then. 

/*/*/*/*/*

Wendy, the Harpies captain, called a time out. With Jennifer leaning heavily against her, she carefully flew down to the ground, where a medi-wizard placed the Seeker on a gurney, running his wand over her head, neck and shoulder. 

The Harpy players flew down to join them, grabbing energy drinks and fruit. They kept encouraging each other, discussing plays that were working and those that weren't. They talked about the other team, and the weaknesses they'd picked up on. 

They looked up expectantly as Gwenog came over to them. “She's out for the match. Concussion,” she said, looking at her team board, hovering in the air in front of her. “Right. Weasley, I'm moving you to Seeker. Harper, I'm switching you and Jamesion. You're now Chaser, and you're now Beater,” she said, pointing to them one at a time. 

“Coach, you sure? Weasley's been on fire today,” commented Wendy. Ginny had scored sixty percent of the Harpies goals, and had handed off the rest. She was playing the match of her life, with complete confidence in her broom. 

“We've got a big enough lead to take a risk,” explained Gwenog; the Harpies were up 110-40. “The way Weasley's flying, she'll catch the damn Snitch. If it starts to unravel, we'll switch it around again. Now, who are we? Who's gonna win?” asked Gwenog. 

“HARPIES!” yelled the team, and flew up together, except for Ginny. 

She walked over to Jennifer. “Okay?” asked Ginny. 

Jennifer nodded, then grimaced. She beckoned Ginny closer with her finger. Ginny bent over her. “The Snitch is flying to my right. Every time I've seen it, it's been on my right. Good luck.” 

Ginny patted her shoulder, leant down and adjusted her charm sequence quickly, and with Gwenog hovering – get your arse back up there, Weasley! – she flew up, hovering above the rest of the flyers. 

She flew leisurely, getting a feel for the stadium and the air up high. Below, the Falcons scored, and she felt a small sense of panic, so she took a couple of deep breaths to regain her focus. 

Fanning from the Falcons flew past, taunting her. “Needed a rest, Weasley? We're coming for ya,” he taunted, as they scored again, and then again. Harper managed to put the Quaffle through the hoops for the Harpies, before Falmouth scored again. 

Ginny was flying faster, building up momentum. “Come on, come on, where are you?” she said to the Snitch. 

Suddenly she saw it. Barry, the Falcon's Seeker, was sitting on his broom, hovering facing her. The Snitch appeared to be directly behind him, over his right shoulder. He mouthed something dirty at her, and she gritted her teeth and accelerated forward. 

The Accleration charm worked better than ever, pleased to finally have it's chance to so what it was intended for. As Barry's eyes got wider as she got closer, thinking she was going to attack him, he began to fly backwards, trying to distance himself from her. 

Ginny couldn't have him simply back himself into the Snitch, so as she got up close and personal, she took a gamble. She put all her balance on her hands to squat down on her broom. Just as she got to the head of his broom, she leaped. The crowd, as one, gasped, then were silent. 

“What the-?” cried Barry, as she practically somersaulted straight over him, her broom flying directly under his. 

As if in slow motion, Barry looked up and over as Ginny came out of the roll, grabbed the Snitch and landed feet first on her broom. She wobbled, but steadied.

“Yes!” she cried triumphantly, holding the Snitch tight in her hand. The crowd cheered. 

“And Weasley's caught the Snitch in a daredevil stunt, somersaulting over the opposition Seeker to catch the Snitch! Harpies win, they are this year's champions!”

Ginny squatted down, and then straddled her broom. She patted the neck, as if it were alive. “Knew you could do it,” she said affectionately, heading down to her team mates. 

They were heading up to her, giddy with victory. “We did it, we won,” they cried, hugging each other. 

“I never doubted it,” said Gwenog, who had joined them. “A champion team.” Over the other women's heads her eyes met Ginny's and the two smiled. 

Up in the stands, the family box was going crazy. Watching on, under a heavy hooded cloak, a pair of green eyes wondered what it would be like to have a family that large. 

He Apparated away. Gepetto, sitting next to him, sighed and shook his head, then stood to applaud the winning team.


	12. A Happy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mothers Day to all my wonderful readers

“Weasley has caught the Snitch. Harpies win. The Holyhead Harpies are this years champions.”

As the crowds cheered the girls laughed and cried together in the middle of the pitch. Gwenog flew up to meet them, making them start crying and laughing even more. Then all together, they flew a slow lap around the pitch waving to the fans. They took longer when they flew closer to the family stands when they separated to go see their families. 

Ginny's family was easy to spot, an excited mob of red heads. She flew into their box and her brothers caught her, hugging her tightly. She leaped into her father's arms, and pulled her mother into a hug, too. Her brothers were chanting 'Weasley is our Queen', and she had never loved them more. Ron was waving his green and gold scarf over his head in joy. 

She grabbed her broom to fly back with her teammates. She waved to the fans and flew around. She was euphoric; this was all she had dreamed of for so long. Only one thing could possibly make it better, but she would see him soon. Her heart sped up at the thought.

The presentation on the ground of the players receiving their championship medals and then the championship trophy seemed to go for ages, and despite wanting to celebrate with her family and teammates, her heart was calling her home. So after yet another triumphant lap of the grounds, Ginny was the first to head back to their changerooms, leaving her teammates still celebrating. 

She was already planning how soon she could leave for the island, when a cloaked figure stepped out in front of her. She gasped, but recognised his figure anywhere. “Harry! Merlin, you came!” She flung her broom down and wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him. 

“I wouldn't miss it for anything,” he said. He reached out to cup her cheek. “I knew you could do it. That last leap though...” He chuckled.

Ginny leaned in to his caress. “I knew what my broom was capable of, knew it wouldn't let me down.” She wrapped an arm around his waist, to bring her body close to his. He was here and all was well. 

He palmed her face and they rested their noses against each other, eyes silently searching the other. 

“Ginny, hey, who's that?” 

In their bubble, she had forgotten that her teammates were heading to the changerooms too. Unfortunately, the press were coming too, to report on the Harpy celebrations that were legendary. 

Harry turned away, and Ginny moved to shield him. 

“Hey, is he bothering you, Miz Weasley?” The security guard realised this stranger was unknown to the players. 

“No, he's fine, he's a friend. Please, just let him alone,” said Ginny, trying to remain calm. From behind her, she could feel Harry tense. 

“Ooh, is this Ginny's boyfriend,” teased one of her team mates. “Hey, what's with the hooded cloak?”

Her teammates surrounded her, teasing her good naturedly. It was only making Ginny worried for Harry. She could feel the anxiety flowing off him. 

“Hey, maybe it's a girlfriend,” said Harper. The hoots and hollers got louder. 

“Come on, show us.”

“Who is he?”

“Tell us, Ginny.”

One of her smaller teammates had scooted unseen around the other ladies, and got close to Harry. “Aha!” she cried triumphantly, jumping up to pull his cloak away from his face. 

Immediately everyone stopped and stared. Someone screamed, but most cringed in horror. “He's a monster,” someone yelled. There were flashes from a camera.

“Merlin's beard, it's Harry Potter!” cried a sharp eyed reporter from the Daily Prophet. The flashes increased.

There was silence, then everyone surged forward. “No, stop,” cried Ginny, her hands up, pleading. 

“Merlin, what happened to him?”

“He's a beast!”

“Shut it!” yelled Ginny, furious. She pulled out her wand and conjured a shield. “Protego.” She and Harry were on one side, and the rest of the world on the other. 

“Miz Weasley, drop the shield, if he hurts you, we can't help you,” pleaded the security guard, his wand outstretched. 

“He would never hurt me. You don't know him like I do,” said Ginny. She grabbed Harry's hand, squeezing tightly. 

“Is it-is it really Harry Potter?” asked a reporter. 

“Yes,” said Ginny proudly, “it is Harry Potter. The man who defeated Voldemort. He saved us all, and you're treating him like a, a...”

“Beast,” said the same person who had called him that before. “Look at him,” he said in disgust. 

Ginny turned to look at Harry, whose face was hidden back under the cloak. She smiled tenderly, and cupped his cheek. “I am,” she said softly. “ I see a man who has faced the darkness of our world nearly all his life, yet still retains the light inside of him. I see goodness and bravery. I see a hero who never wanted to be a hero at all, but did what he had to do. But most of all, when I look in his eyes...I see love.” She reached up to press her lips against his. 

Everyone was silent. Once their fleeting kiss was over, Ginny turned back to the crowd watching them, her eyes blazing. “Shame on you all for judging someone based on their outward appearance. Yes, he is scarred, they are battle scars and curse scars that he got fighting the darkest witches and wizards of our time, and nothing to be ashamed of,” she said defensively. 

“Ginny...are you in love with him?” gasped one of her teammates in disbelief. 

She had yet to define her feelings to him, but she wasn't about to deny it, and when pushed – “Yes,” she said. She turned to Harry. “Yes, I am,” she admitted. 

The onlookers saw a scarred arm reach out to bring her closer to him, and they gasped. Ginny looked into his eyes, and he nodded. She pushed the cloak off his face, and raised her head to his. Their lips came together passionately. 

“That poor man,” someone said quietly, yet they all heard her, “what he must have been through.”

A single clap started, and slowly, one by one, they all joined in, until they were all applauding the couple, who slowly separated to find everyone still watching them. 

“Can we get out of here?” Harry whispered to her, and she nodded eagerly. 

“Three cheers for Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, and Ginny Weasley, Harpies champion,” someone called out. 

Ginny smiled thankfully, and as the cheers rang out, they made their escape, only dropping the shield charm when they were a decent distance away. 

“Did you mean it?” he asked her quietly, when they were finally alone behind closed doors. His voice held disbelief and hope. “What you said out there.” He gestured with his head. 

“Every word,” said Ginny, honestly. She moved closer, taking his hand. “You know there will be photos in the paper tomorrow?”

He nodded, saying nothing. 

“But it won't matter, we'll be back on the island tomorrow,” she added quickly. “I've missed everyone. How is Dobby and Asim? Teddy and Tonks? Matthew, Hansel and Gretel? I can't wait to tell Gepetto about my broom,” she said excitedly. She opened her locker and began to gather her possessions. 

“Ginny. Ginny, wait,” said Harry, holding up his hand. 

“What? What is it?” she asked, looking at him. 

He hesitated. “You're not coming back with me,” he said gently. 

“What? No, I am, we can go right now if you want,” she said. Bugger her things, someone could forward them on to her. She shut her locker and looked expectantly at him.

He shook his head sadly. “Would you really leave without telling your family?”

Ginny's smile faded, but she looked him in the eye. “It's not how I would want to leave, but they know about us,” she said. “Ideally I'd want you to meet them so they can see how so very lucky I am.”

He said nothing but watched her with those burning eyes. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

Ginny's heart dropped as she realised that while she had admitted her love for him in front of practically their whole world, he had said nothing about loving her. “But...but I want to go home...with you,” she said shakily. 

“Ginny,” he said slowly, “you're a Quidditch champion. There were scouts for England in the crowd today. I'm sure they'll be knocking on your door in a week or two,” he said. 

“I don't care about that. My dream was to win the championship with the Harpies, and I've done it,” she exclaimed. “I want to go home with you, help you with your potions, see all our friends again,” she said. 

He shook his head. “I can't let you give up your career for me, I won't.”

“It's not giving up,” insisted Ginny. “Please, all I want is to be with you,” she implored. 

He hesitated, giving her hope. He brushed her hair behind her ear. “You have a talent for Quidditch that I think could see you play for England. I don't want you to have any regrets.” He kissed her. “I'll be home on the island, waiting for you...always.”

He stepped away from her. 

“You're leaving now?” she asked in disbelief. 

He nodded. “Go, join your teammates. Celebrate your success. See your family.”

Ginny nodded, fighting to hold back the tears. She could tell there was no way he would change his mind. “You-you'll tell everyone back home that I said hi. That I will be home...soon.”

“I will,” he said, his voice thick. 

There was a hammering on her door. “All right, you two, come on out, it's party time – Harpy style!” called out Julia. Her teammates laughed. 

Ginny glanced at the door. “I probably should go,” she said. She turned back to him. “Will you – oh!”

Harry was gone. 

“But I didn't get to say goodbye,” she whispered sadly. 

Her door burst open. “Hey girl, come on, we've got a lot of celebrating to do.”

Ginny burst into tears. 

/*/*/*/*

The scouts did come calling, only a week after the Harpys became champions. And even though Ginny accepted their offer to join their squad, it only meant a longer separation from Harry. Assuming she made it through the training and into the side, it would be a year till the World Cup. A year away from Harry! 

She visited Healer Flynn, sharing stories of his brother and her other friends on the island. She confided why she wasn't with Harry, and to her consternation, he agreed with Harry's decision. “It's just a year,” he shrugged. “What's one year, compared to the rest of your lives.”

That comment stayed with her often over the next months. Harry didn't visit, but sent letters that she would read over and over, and keep forever, bundled together in a red ribbon. He often mentioned her friends on the island had asked about her, but mostly it was about the hope he dared have for when she returned. Ginny felt his uncertainty and they were the hardest days and nights to get through, when all she wanted was to be in his arms. 

That year she improved her flying, playing the best she had ever played. She was able to attend George and Angelina's brother's wedding, and see the birth of her first nephew. She was able to spend time with close friends and her family, appreciating them even more for their support. They knew about her feelings for Harry and his decision to return to the island without her.

“Ginny, are you sure?” asked her mother often. Molly was unsure about Fogsworth Island, and how often she'd see her daughter. 

Ginny nodded. Her resolve to see this through and then return to the island had never wavered. “It's my home,” she shrugged. “He's my home.” It was time for them to begin their lives together. 

“Well, we'll all be there to see you at the World Cup, dear. You won't leave straight away, will you?” asked Molly. 

Ginny bit her bottom lip. It was what she had planned to do. “Mum, it's been a year. A year! I-I want to see him so badly.”

Molly looked at her daughter, then thought about being separated from Arthur for a year. “You're right. You should go to him, and if we get to say goodbye, well, that's a bonus for us,” she said. 

Ginny hugged her mum. “It's just goodbye, for now. I hope Harry and I will come and visit soon, so you can really get to know him. Or you can come visit us,” she offered. 

“You know your brothers are working on a paste to help with his scars,” confided Molly. 

Ginny smiled. “That's sweet, but I don't even notice them. They're just part of who is. I hope, in time, you'll feel the same,” she said. 

“I'm sure we will, dear. Now, what time do you have to be at the stadium?” asked Molly, picking up her knitting. 

“Mid morning. Everyone got their tickets, right?” she asked. 

Molly nodded. “Luna mentioned something about wearing a lion's head, for old times sake. Do you know what she means, dear?” 

Ginny laughed. “It's Luna being wonderfully supportive as only Luna can. I can't wait to see her.”

Indeed, Luna was easy to spot in the crowd, and after Ginny hugged her family as England did their victory lap, she gave Luna a special hug. 

“Oh Ginny, someone asked me to give you something,” remembered Luna, handing it over. 

“Who was it?” asked Ginny, looking down at the old newspaper. She unrolled it. It was the Stinchcombe Times. “Luna, when did he give this to you?” she asked urgently, looking around. 

“Why, as soon as you caught the Snitch, Ginny. He said he'd see you at home, if you still wanted to come. Then he left,” explained Luna. 

Ginny hugged Luna so tight, then danced with her. “I'm going home, Luna.”

“That's wonderful Ginny. I'll miss you,” her friend said. 

“You'll come and visit, though, you and Rolf? ” asked Ginny. She had been happily surprised when Luna had introduced her to her partner in life. 

“Jeez, Ginny, what are you doing? They're waiting for you down there,” cried Ron, hurrying to her side. 

Ginny handed him her broom. “Do me a favour, Ron? Take my place. Oh, tell Viktor good game, won't you,” she cried giddily. “Thanks, brother,” she finished, kissing his cheek. 

“Me...fly down there, with the English team,” said Ron, in a daze. “Talk...to Viktor Krum,” he squeaked. 

Ginny wasn't even listening, she was looking down at the paper fiercely. “Why isn't it working?” she asked in frustration. “Come on, stupid Portkey.” She shook the paper. 

“Maybe there's something inside?” suggested Luna. 

“Ginny? Ginny, dear?” called her mum, hurrying to her side. 

“Gin, is it time?” asked her dad hesitantly, looking at the newspaper in her hand. 

Ginny looked up from the paper. “He was here. He left this with Luna. It's a Portkey to get home, but it's not working,” she said desperately. 

She opened the paper, trying to resist the urge to read the stories about her friends and her home. Then something caught her eye. “Wait, go back,” she told Luna, who was about to turn the page. 

It was the cover for the movie, 'The Wizard of Oz'. But it was the words that got Ginny's attention. 'There's no place like home!'

“Well, what does that mean?” asked Molly, confused. 

Ginny raised her face to her parents, her eyes blazing. “I know what to do. Mum, Dad, please thank everyone for coming to see me today. I love you all, and we'll be in touch soon.”

“Ginny, what –?” asked Molly. 

Ginny smiled, closed her eyes and clicked her heels together, three times. “There's no place like home,” she said, and the spell was activated, taking her away. 

No, she amended, it was bringing her home. 

/*/*/*/*

She landed on the beach, as she did over a year ago. The sun was shining and the sea was blue. It was a beautiful sight, only Ginny did not waste time looking at it. There was only one thing, one person she wanted to see right now. She spun around, and let out a gasp. 

The rocky cliff that was once so barren was now a mass of shrubs, in all colours possible. She raced up the stairs, for a moment wishing she had her broom. She had never run faster, trying to take in all the changes that had taken place. 

The castle loomed up ahead, but instead of the dark, grey, run down castle she had left, now it was magnificent. No longer run down, but as if it were new. The grounds were lush and green, every where she looked, as she headed for the front door. 

A man was leaning against a pillar; the stone dog and wolf now gone. He straightened as she approached, standing between her and the door. 

“Sirius or Remus?” she asked, then guessed, “Sirius?” and when he grinned and nodded, she flung her arms around him. Behind him, she heard the door open. 

“ Miss Ginny! Dobby is so happy – yikes!” gasped Dobby, as Ginny grabbed him up, hugged him then set him down. 

“Great to see you too, Dobby. Where is he?” asked Ginny desperately. 

“Up the stairs and – ” Dobby sighed happily as she ran right past him. he and Sirius exchanged happy grins, then Sirius Disapparated to tell Remus, Tonks and Teddy that Ginny was home. 

Ginny looked this way and that. Everywhere she looked she saw colour and light. It was like a whole new home, but she didn't take the time to really look around. She sighed in relief when she came across his workshop, but he was not in there. 

“Harry, where are you?” she called in frustration. 

“The massssster is up on the tower. It isssss good to have you home,” hissed Asim. 

“It issss good to be back, but how, Asssssim, how do I get up to him?” she begged in Parseltongue. 

“There is a way, a ssssssecret passage way. Massssster ssssaid you will know where,” hissed Asim. 

Ginny swore the snake was grinning. “Damn him,” she cursed. She had thought his workshop was at the top of the castle. She glanced around, her gaze settling on a wardrobe that hadn't been there before. “Rather an odd thing to have in the workshop,” she said. “Oh, he wouldn't.” 

She opened the wardrobe, pushing aside the cloaks she found in there. Sure enough, when she tapped on the back panel, it sounded different. With a last look at Asim, who seemed to nod, she stepped into it, and pushed aside the back panel. 

It opened. 

She stepped outside, immediately feeling the sunshine on her face. “Harry?” she called, looking around. She saw a spiral set of stairs leading up, and she raced up. 

He was there, his back to her. Looking out over the balcony, she assumed he had watched her run up the stairs. 

“Harry!” 

He straightened and slowly turned. She gasped in surprise when he fully faced her.

“Hello, Ginny,” he said. 

She slowly came closer, her eyes searching his face. Gone were the many scars, the drooping eye. His face was blemish free, as was his body, as she took in his overall appearance. He was so very handsome. 

“How?” she asked, walking around him. His shoulders and arms were muscular, tapering down to a trim waist. 

“You,” he said simply. “Your love never wavered, despite distance and doubters. Your love did all this,” he said, extending his arm to convey the new manor and the grounds. “My family home was under the curse too, but over this last year, it has slowly transformed back to the home I have seen in photographs. Thank you, Ginny.”

She stared at him; she loved him so. “It wasn't all me. You had to learn to accept my love, too,” she said, realising that this would have been hard for him, especially with her absence. Now she knew why she sensed his uncertainty in his earlier letters. Time would surely have shown him she had never wavered, not once. 

He took both her hands in his. “ You taught me to love. As every part of the curse lifted, and our island home was restored the way it should be, it reinforced your love for me, and mine for you.”

“And was I a good teacher?” she teased, loping her arms around his neck. 

He threw his head back and laughed. “The very best,” he promised her, before kissing her passionately. 

They breathlessly broke apart. “You came to my match,” she said. 

He nodded, gathering her in his arms, reluctant to ever let her go again. “I sat under my invisibility cloak most of the time, despite wanting to stand and cheer for you. I was able to watch your family and friends. Luna is...different,” he said. 

“Unique,” she corrected. “You'll see,” she said. “Now, will you show me around? It's a whole new castle,” she said.

He took her hand. “Come,” he said, taking her down a different set of spiral steps and through some french doors. “This is the master suite,” he said, gesturing. 

“Our room,” she said happily, walking around. 

“If you want it to be,” he said shyly, reminding Ginny that, though he may now be as handsome as any prince from a fairytale, he was still her Harry. His outward scars may have gone, but inside, they were still there. 

“I do,” she said, coming over to him and settling in his arms, where she belonged. “In fact, I think that's enough of the tour of the castle.I've seen all I need to see.”

Harry's eyes darkened. “Merlin, I have missed you so much,” he said, cupping her cheeks and kissing her passionately. “I love you so much.”

“Show me,” she said boldly. Her blazing eyes met his burning ones, and he nodded, taking her hand and leading her to the bed. 

/*/*/*/*

Dobby and Asim waited for any sign that the two would emerge from their bedroom, but it was the next morning before they ventured out. 

“Greetingsssss, masssster and missssstresssss,” hissed Asim. 

“Good morning, Asssssim,” they hissed back. 

“Morning, Dobby,” they greeted the elf. 

The elf bowed. “Dobby has been bringing papers from the mainland, in light of mistress' victory yesterday. They wait for you in the dining room, with breakfast,” he offered. 

“Let's go and read how wonderful you were yesterday,” grinned Harry, offering her his hand.

“I'm feeling pretty wonderful today,” quipped Ginny, kissing him lightly. 

The papers were all full of the World Cup. There were lots of photos, which Harry insisted would go into a photo album he'd created in her absence. Every photo, every article from the Harpies victory to her selection for England was in there. 

“Not a day went past that I didn't think about you,” he admitted. 

“Same for me. Every long, hard day was a day closer to coming home – to you,” she said. 

They scanned the photos, laughing at a dazed Ron accepting her medal and standing next to his idol, Viktor Krum. Ginny laughed as a clueless Ron was being checked out by Viktor. The Bulgarian clearly liked what he saw!

“Looks like I'm not the only one who got her happy ending,” she laughed. 

He growled, pulling her from her chair to his lap. “This is not an ending. We are just beginning,” he said, kissing her yet again. 

“Yes,” she agreed. “We have the rest of our days together.”

Dobby popped into the dining room. “Master, Mistress, you must come and see,” he urged. “Word has got out that Miss Ginny is home.”

They looked at each other worriedly, then followed Dobby into the main lounge and onto the balcony there. “Oh!” gasped Ginny, looking down. 

All the townspeople had made the trek to Stinchcombe Castle, some dressed in red, white and blue, some carrying banners that said 'Our Ginny!' “Best Chaser – Ginny Weasley!' Ginny liked Gepetto's best. 'Ginny Weasley + Cleansweep Brooms = The Winning Team.'

“Hey, there she is!” someone shouted, and they all looked up and let out cheers. 

Ginny waved to them all, pointing at the people she had grown closest to. Gene had a group of the school children on his magic carpet, whilst Matthew and a particularly well dressed man held up a huge cake that said – 'Ginny – Our Champion' in icing. Auror Woody saluted her, and Mayor Cogsworth was trying to make a speech but was getting drowned out by all the cheers. 

Finally they quietened down. “Thank you, my friends, it's so wonderful to see you all again, and to finally be home,” she called.

They cheered again. “Does this mean you're staying, Ginny?” called out Hansel. The crowd held it's breath. 

Ginny's eyes shone. “I'd like to, very much. But it kind of depends on...” She looked behind her, where Harry had retreated to let her have her moment. 

She held out her hand, as she had done over a year ago, when the Harpies had won. 

“Let her stay, Harry, please,” implored Gretel. 

Ginny smiled at Harry and drew him forward. “The Beast is gone forever,” she said. “I give you, Harry, your Lord of Stinchcombe.”

Harry stepped forward to face his townspeople. Despite the changes to the town and himself, he had only stayed in contact with a select group of people who knew who he really was. Messages for Ginny had come through Father Flynn.

There were gasps, then silence. Harry made eye contact with each and every one of them. Father Flynn nodded proudly. 

Ginny stepped closer to him and put her arm around his waist. The sun shone down on her coppery hair, and he stared in wonder. She had brought light, and colour and love to his life. How had he lived before her?

“You may all bear witness as I implore this wonderful witch to marry me, and live out our days here on Stinchcombe Island. She has changed my life, and dare I say, yours too. What say you, people of Stinchcombe?” asked Harry, grandly. 

More cheers sounded, louder than ever. Harry turned to Ginny; her love giving him confidence. “Please, Ginny, make me the happiest man in the world? Marry me, stay with me, forever?” he asked, almost pleaded. 

“Yes,” she said, her eyes blazing. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he practically shouted, so the whole world could hear. He drew her into a kiss, and then hugged her tight. “Never leave me,” he whispered. 

She could still sense the uncertainty in him. “Never,” she said. “I will be with you, always.”

He pulled away, although he kept hold of her hands. “Let the celebrations commence. England are World Champions, and Ginny Weasley has agreed to become my wife. I give you your new Lady Stinchcombe”

“Hip, hip, hooray,” shouted the crowd, and the party did indeed commence. It was a party that was only rivalled by their wedding celebrations, three months later. 

/*/*/*/*

Ten Months Later - 

Teddy Lupin raced in to the town's official office, and without a glance, ran up the stairs. He burst into the mayor's office, happy to see him talking to the town's new law enforcer. “ Uncle Sirius, Mum, you have to come, quick. Gran Molly sent a Patronus to Dad at school, said it's nearly time.”

“Merlin,” cried Sirius, standing. “Did she say how's Harry doing?”

“Not good. Dad dismissed us all from school and told me to come here. He's gone to the castle now. Hurry!” urged Teddy, excitedly.

Tonks nodded. She exchanged a look with Sirius. “I'll just go back to my office first, send for my deputy. I'll see you at the castle,” she said. 

Sirius was already on his feet. “I'll let Anastasia downstairs know. She'll spread the word faster than anything. The whole town will soon know that Ginny is in labour.”

“You'll take Teddy?” At Sirius' nod, Tonks kissed Teddy's cheek, much to his disgust. 

“Aw Mum,” he whined. 

“Don't get up to mischief,” she told him, ruffling his hair as she had done so in her former figure. 

“He'll be fine. He's going to grow up and take over from me as mayor one of these days, wait and see,” said Sirius, winking at Teddy. “Go, Tonks, he'll be fine.”

Tonks smiled and nodded, then silently disapparated. Sirius checked there was nothing on his desk that couldn't wait, and together he and Teddy went downstairs. 

“Anastasia, spread the word. The time has come. Ginny's in labour. Tonks and I will be at the castle until further notice,” he said. 

“Yes, Mayor Black,” she said. 

Sirius ushered Teddy out the door, but not before turning back to wink at her. She blushed prettily and began to send out the news to the townspeople. Sirius and Teddy disapparated to the castle. 

Siruis always liked to arrive at the front doors. With Remus and Sirius restored to their proper forms, there was no stone figures guarding the front door. Ginny spoke to Gepetto, who knew of a stone mason. Together with Siruis, Remus and Tonks, they arranged for the mason to produce two magnificent figures to replace the wolf and the dog. A fierce stag guarded the left, a proud doe, the right. Even though Sirius knew it wasn't his best friends, he still greeted them with a pat. Teddy copied him. “Hiya, Prongs, Ms Lily.”

The front door opened. “Oh Mr Sirius, sir, isn't it exciting. Soon, the new young master or mistress will be here,” trembled Dobby. 

“Where is everyone?” asked Sirius, ushering Teddy in. 

“We're all up here,” everyone chorused. 

“Well, except for Mum, Harry and Doc,” called Ron. “They're in there.” He gestured to the main room in the west wing. Lily and Euphemia were watching over the birth too, as Ginny had wanted to birth their child in the same bed Harry was delivered in. 

Sirius and Teddy went up the stairs, with Remus patting a spot next to him for his son. “Bet you're happy to get out of school early, hey Teddy,” chuckled Bill, bouncing his own baby boy on his knee.   
His daughters Victoire and Dominique were outside with Charlie and little Molly, looking at a mother cat and her kittens. The mother cat, Duchess, had somehow sought sanctuary in Ginny's old cottage and birthed three kittens there. Matthew had given the two boy kittens grand names, Berlioz and Toulouse, while naming the girl kitten Marie, after Heston's mother. They were only three weeks old.

“How's Harry?” Sirius asked Remus. 

“Worried about Ginny, of course. Won't leave her side, but he'll be pleased to know you're here when he finally comes out,” said Remus. 

James appeared in the frame above them. “Won't be long now. Hey, Pads, you made it.” 

“Wouldn't miss it, Prongs,” vowed Sirius. 

Sirius caught up with all the news from London from the Weasleys. He did stay in regular contact with both Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, and Gawain Robards, the head of the Aurors, London division. 

Arthur paced worriedly, despite his sons teasing him that he wasn't as nervous when their children were born. It took their understanding wives to explain to their husbands how hard it was to imagine your daughter in pain, even if it was childbirth. 

Teddy ended up going out to find Charlie and the girls, for it soon got boring for the young boy. But not long after he left, a dazed Harry stuck his head out. “Arthur, Dad,” he called to the portrait, “Please, come in.”

Arthur shakily followed Harry into the room, and the door shut behind them. James eagerly departed his frame, presumably for the one in the bedroom. 

“Blimey, couldn't he have told us anything, given us a clue,” despaired George. He pulled out a long piece of parchment. “I've got galleons riding on this.”

Now Sirius was the one to pace, and Tonks, who had stopped off to see her old school friend Charlie and the kids, joined him. 

Not fifteen minutes, the door opened again. Doc came out, shutting it behind him. “Text book delivery,” he said in satisfaction, before going downstairs. 

“Merlin, this is frustrating,” sighed Percy. 

“Patience, dear,” said his wife, Audrey, patting his hand. She gasped, then brought his hand to her slightly swollen belly. “Oh, the baby just kicked for the first time.” 

The door opened and a beaming Molly and Arthur stepped out. “The delivery went fine. Ginny did wonderfully, and Harry was so good with her. He helped deliver the baby, and cut the umbilical cord. It was a beautiful birth,” said Molly proudly. 

“Yes, but WHAT DID SHE HAVE?” yelled Ron. “Am I an uncle or an aunt?” His brothers burst into laughter at his confusion. 

Behind him a baby cried. Ron spun around to see Harry standing in the doorway. “You are an uncle. May I present our son, James Sirius Potter. James, may I present your family.”

Ron came closer, stroking James' cheek with his finger. He was a fine looking baby, already with a hint of ginger hair. “Hey, James,” crooned Ron softly. He looked up at Harry. “How's Ginny?” he asked. 

“Brilliant. Amazing. It was a beautiful birth. Both our mums were there, just like Ginny wanted,” said a teary Harry. 

He took the baby over to Sirius, then Remus and Tonks, reciting a little talk of each person as he introduced James to his family. All the Weasley wives got a quick cuddle, for they could see Harry was anxious to get back to Ginny. 

“All right,” said Ron, when Harry had returned to the bedroom with James, to be with Ginny. “Reckon its time to have a bit of a party, yeah?”

They all trooped downstairs to invade the kitchen. Dobby was torn between his duty as house elf of the castle to help provide for the guests, or to sneak away to see if his master, mistress and the new little master needed anything. In the end, his love for his family came first. 

“Dobby, come see,” urged Ginny, as she and Harry looked up at his familiar pop. “Come meet James.”

Dobby cautiously came forward. “Dobby's be not wanting to intrude. Dobby is just wanting to ask – oh!” He gasped at the first sight of James. “ He-he is beautiful. My master and mistress have made a beautiful baby,” he cried, weeping over the newborn. 

Harry and Ginny exchanged loving looks over Dobby's head, as he professed to care for the baby till the end of his days. He then uttered an elfish blessing, for the baby's health and prosperity. He then bowed and left, leaving the new family together.

While Harry and Ginny spent time with their son, downstairs the celebrations were beginning. Word had got out, and townspeople soon trickled in, waiting for news. The family played dumb, guessing that Harry should be the one to announce the birth. 

Matthew and Heston arrived, carrying two magnificent cakes. “I think it's a boy,” announced Matthew, showing his huge blue cake. “She was carrying low throughout her pregnancy.”

“No, I'm sure it's a girl,” argued Heston. His pink cake was adorned with rosettes of pink icing, and both were big enough to feed the whole town. “She suffered morning sickness all day at the start. It's a girl, I'm sure,” he added confidently. Ginny had taken to Heston just as she had done with Matthew and they were still all great friends. 

Remus, who had been called upstairs with Sirius, called out to everyone. “If you'd all be so kind to step outside onto the lawns, there will soon be an announcement,” he said. He and Arthur ushered everyone outside, and they all eagerly looked up to the balcony adjoining the birthing room. 

The murmurs of the crowd stopped when the French doors opened. Sirius stepped forward, wearing his official mayoral robes. “Good people of Stinchcombe Island, on behalf of Harry, Lord Stichcombe, and his wife, Ginny...may I present...James Sirius, your next Lord of Stinchcombe.”

He grandly held the baby up high for all to see. Harry and Ginny stood together behind him. It was the official protocol for the mayor to announce the birth. There would be a publichristening at the church when he was three months old. 

“Three cheers for the wee one. Hip, Hip, Hooray,” called Gepetto. 

“Hip, Hip, Hooray,” chorused the townspeople. 

“Hip, Hip, Hooray,” chorused the family and friends. 

Little James howled, his eyes tightly shut. Ginny stepped next to Sirius, and took the baby back from him. Recognising his mother's scent, he soon quietened. Harry stood next to Ginny, peering down proudly at his son, his arm around Ginny. 

“It's a proud day to be a Stinchy,” said a teary Matthew to Heston, “but what are we going to do with your pink cake?” His nickname for Harry had caught on, and now it was considered an honour to be a Stinchy. 

“I don't think it will be a problem,” said Heston, wryly. “Not with the Weasleys in town.”

“It was a beautiful cake. You really are a genius, Heston,” said Matthew, kissing him lightly.

“So are you, Stud-Muffin man,” whispered Heston. “Now go, take some of your cake up for Harry and Ginny. I know you're dying for a closer look at the baby. I'll mingle.” He loved these occassions, not that he missed his hectic celebrity lifestyle from before. 

“Oh my,” gasped a lady, recognising him. “Aren't you...?”

“Yes madam, that would be me,” he nodded, walking on. 'Still got it', he thought in satisfaction. 

Matthew caught Harry and Ginny just as they were leaving the balcony and returning to their room, content to let everybody else celebrate the birth. “Matthew!” cried Ginny. 

“Ginny! Let me see him, oh, he's beautiful, just like you,” gushed Matthew, thrusting the plate with the cake on into Harry's hands. “Except his eyes...he's got your gorgeous green eyes, Harry.”

Harry looked up at his mother, watching over them in a frame. “My mother's eyes,” he corrected softly. 

Lily beamed down at her beloved son and grandson.


	13. Epilogue

Eight Years Later – 

Ginny woke slowly, hearing muffled laughter and whispering. “Is she awake? Artie, go check.”

 

Ginny smiled and kept her eyes shut as she felt her youngest child climb on to the bed. Small hands palmed her cheeks. “Mama, you 'wake?” he whispered loudly, his face millimetres from hers. 

She grabbed him quickly and hugged him tight, making him cry out in glee. “Mama, Mama, stop,” he cried, as she tickled him. 

It was the signal for her other two children to join her in bed. “Happy Birthday, Mama,” said her daughter, Lily. Ginny stopped tickling Arthur long enough to share a kiss with her five year old.

“Mum, we've been helping Dad make you a special breakfast,” said her eldest, James. “Hurry up.”

Ginny sighed happily and, with a kiss again to her youngest, she got out of bed. Harry had actually woken her earlier, to wish her a happy birthday in his own special way. Then she'd started to fall asleep again, so he'd whispered, “Go back to dreamland, Sleeping Beauty,” and she had done so till now. 

She pulled on her robe and belted it. James hovered anxiously, taking his responsibilities to bring her to the kitchen very seriously. Since he'd turned seven, he'd begun trailing Harry, eager to learn all he could about being the next Lord of Stinchcombe. Harry indulged him, taking James with him to meet the townspeople, to listen to their wants and needs and to explain how they could help them. 

James offered Ginny his hand, and the younger children followed. Lily helped Arthur, and they all greeted Asim, who lay outstretched along the stairway railings. None of the children were afraid of the snake and all had the gift of Parseltongue. 

“Happy Birthday, Missssstrressss, good morning, children, ” hissed Asim. 

“Hi, Assssim,” hissed James, Lily and Artie. 

“Thank you, Asssssim,” nodded Ginny. “You have sssssomewhere to be today?”

“I shall sssleep in the masssster'ssss workshop while the party isssss on,” hissed the old snake. 

“Good. We'll let everyone know it'ssssss out of boundsssss,” said Ginny, nodding. “Although I'm sure Hanssssel will sssneak up to pay a visssssit to hissss old friend.”

“He will be welcome, misssstresss,” affirmed the snake. Hansel always visited Asim when he was home from Hogwarts on holidays. This was his and Gretel's last year, and he was Head Boy. 

Ginny and the children continued to the kitchen, where she found her husband with a frilly apron tied around his waist. “Oh, I like this,” she teased, her arms around his waist. 

Harry turned, taking her in his arms, his eyes full of love. “Happy Birthday, my love,” he said tenderly, before kissing her. 

“Morning, Mistress Ginny. Happy day of birth,” chortled Dobby, interrupting them unapologetically.

Harry and Ginny reluctantly separated, their eyes promising the other that it would be continued at a later time. They joined their children at the table, as Dobby served them a special breakfast in honour of the day. 

“Mama, when are Gran Molly and Grandpa Arthur arriving?” asked Lily. 

“ Is Gran bringin' presents?” asked Artie, perking up. 

“It's your mum's birthday, not yours,” reminded Harry. Artie frowned, but his dad quickly added, “but when did your grandparents not bring presents for you all?”

Artie, Lily and James exchanged cheerful grins. “Dad, can I go with Uncle Sirius to greet all the guests coming in today for the party?” asked James, sipping his pumpkin juice. 

“That would be very grown up of you, James, thank you. Our friends and family will be very chuffed to be greeted by both the mayor and the next Lord of Stinchcombe as they arrive,” nodded Harry. 

James looked quite proud. He liked hanging out with Uncle Sirius, who became the town mayor after Mayor Cogsworth ran off to the mainland with Drizella, causing quite the scandal. Sirius had later married Anastasia and they lived close to the town centre.

“Me too, me too,” cried Arthur, jumping up and down. “Wanna go to town, and show Grampa Arthur the sword in the stone.” He picked up his last slice of toast and ate it. 

“We'll see, love. Dobby, can we make sure we have fresh flowers in the all the bedrooms, please?” asked Ginny. “How are the preparations coming along?” 

“All under control, Mistress. The first guests are expected within the next two hours. Mister George and his family,” informed Dobby. George was arriving early to set up the fireworks for later that night. 

“It'll be nice to have the family visit for awhile, won't it?” asked Ginny. She, Harry and the children usually visited London for Mother's Day, Father's day and Christmas, staying for a week or so, buying new clothes for the children, and other knick knacks they might need. They often caught up with Neville and his wife Hannah, and Luna and Rolf if they were in town. Ginny smiled to think that Ursula had indeed been right, Rolf was playing a part in her future. Married to Luna, and the parents of twin boys, they had made a base on Stinchcombe Island, before setting off on their travels again. 

“Mama, can I show Lucy my school bag, please?” begged Lily. “We both have pink ones.” She finished her muesli and pushed her bowl aside. Dobby promptly summoned it to the sink. 

“I can't believe my little girl is big enough to start school in September,” said Ginny, dropping a kiss on Lily's head. “Of course you can show Lucy, sweetie.”

“I'm gonna be the smartest one in the class, cos Uncle Remus has already teached me lots,” boasted Lily. 

“Wait till you get Miss Peregrine. She makes you write lots of essays,” sighed James. 

“I like to write,” said Lily, confidently. 

“I like to draw,” said Artie, climbing onto his dad's lap. His dad hugged him tight and whispered in his ear, making him giggle. The two shared a cuddle.

“We should all go and get ready, our guests will begin arriving soon,” said Ginny, seeing they had all finished their breakfasts. “But before you go, Daddy and I have a surprise for you.”

“We wanted you to be the first ones to know,” smiled Harry, looking around at the children. 

“In the new year, around February or March, you'll have a new brother or sister,” said Ginny. 

“I want a sister,” said Lily. “Please,” she tacked on. Artie nodded too. 

“I want another brother,” said James. Artie nodded again. 

“Well, we'll have to wait and see,” said Harry, putting Artie down and ushering them upstairs to dress. Ginny stood and he took her in his arms. “That went well. How long do you think they can keep a secret?” He put his hand on her belly. 

“Does it matter? We agreed to tell them this morning before my mother arrived. You know she'll know as soon as she sees me, and I wanted the children to know first,” said Ginny, covering his hand with hers.

“Dad, can I wear my Stinchcombe jacket Grandma made for me, pleeeeeeeeese?” yelled James, from up the stairs. 

“Yes,” called Harry. To Ginny he said, “He's really taken to this Lord of Stinchcombe title, hasn't he?”

“And my hat?” yelled James. 

“That he has. Although I have noticed Artie feels a bit left out lately when the two of you go off,” said Ginny. 

“Daaaaaaaad?” called James, again. 

“Yes, fine,” answered Harry. He looked back at Ginny. “How about I take Artie to town to meet everyone too. He seems quite taken with that stone, so we'll visit there with your parents, okay? I'll leave my two girls here, to get all pretty for the party.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. 

“Muuuuuuu-uuum? I can't find my jacket,” called James. 

Harry and Ginny broke apart and smiled. Keeping ahold of each other's hands, they walked upstairs to their children. 

“Or my hat!”

/*/*/*/*

It was yet another magnificent celebration. The grounds were magnificent, with guests and townspeople enjoying the wonderful sunshine. Harry and Ginny were able to mingle and greet their guests without needing to keep an eye on the children, as Bill and George had taken all of the younger ones down to the beach. 

Ron, Gene and Arthur were watching the older children fly around the grounds on a magic carpet. “I still say they should be legal in England,” said Arthur. 

Molly was enjoying talking with Matthew's mother, Lorraine, and Doc. Remus and Sirius just joined the party, after a visit with James and Lily. Tonks greeted her husband with a plate of food, and Anastasia greeted her husband with a kiss. The old law enforcer, Auror Woody had been caught red handed by the Gringotts goblins, letting two Niffler's into the bank. 

Ginny was chatting with Neville and Hannah when she spotted a new arrival. “Excuse me, “ she told them, grabbing Harry's arm and gesturing. Together, they made their way over. 

“Headmistress MacGonagall, thank you so much for coming, and so quickly. We don't know what to think,” said Ginny, ushering her former head of house inside. 

“So you said he simply pulled the sword out of the stone?” asked Minerva as the three went inside and found a quiet corner to talk. 

“Yes, he's been quite taken with it, always wanting to see it when we go to town. He wanted to show it to Molly and Arthur when they arrived, so we took them there. I nearly fell over when he ran up to it and simply pulled the sword out,” said Harry, still surprised. 

He handed the sword to Minerva. She looked it over carefully, even running her wand over to verify. “It's definitely the Sword of Gryffindor. It's been missing ever since the final battle. Amazing,” she said. 

“But what does this mean for our Arthur?” asked Ginny, as she took the sword back from Minerva. 

“Mine,” cried Artie, running inside to his mother's side. “ It's mine,” he insisted, “I pulled it out and it's mine.”

“Only Dumbledore knew the history of the sword, but it is definitely the Sword of Gryffindor. As for your son, I think it means we can expect great things from him,” said Minerva.

“I'm gonna be a great wizard like Daddy,” agreed Artie. 

Harry picked him up and Ginny came to their side. “Thank you again, Minerva. Won't you stay, enjoy the festivities? You've come all this way,” said Ginny.

“Thank you, I will. Perhaps I'll talk with Remus, ask him to keep an eye on young Arthur Potter. He may need special tutelage as he gets older,” nodded Minerva. “Perhaps, even later, lessons in sword play. I know a young man, Edmund Pevensie, an excellent swordsman. He'd be a good tutor for your young Arthur,” she said, wandering off to find Remus. 

“I keep the sword?” asked Artie, looking at his mother and father. 

“I guess, for today. It will have to return to Hogwarts with the headmistress, I'm afraid. But from what I remember, the sword will always be available to a Gryffindor in need,” said Ginny. Harry put his youngest son down and took the sword from Ginny. 

“Am I a Gryffdor?” asked Artie. He watched as his father sheathed the sword in it's scabbard that Minerva had brought with her. He then slung it over his shoulder.

“Possibly, in the future, but not today, my darling. Today is party day,” said Ginny, taking his hand, and the three re-joined the party. Still, she thought it highly likely in eight years time that Arthur Evans Potter would be sorted into Gryffindor. 

The grounds had never looked better. Every celebration at the castle only reinforced the love and goodness all over the island. Families had returned, with Harry's generous offer of a year without paying taxes and all the help they needed, to re-establish their businesses. Crops were plentiful, making the small island bountiful. It was a happy cycle. The better the crops, the more prosperous the town was, the happier the townspeople were.

Later, as the party wound down, Ginny farewelled her guests. She left hers and Harry's family downstairs, and ducked upstairs to say goodnight to the children. 

She found her sisters-in-law tucking their children in, and offered them sweet dreams with fun times to be had the next day. Then she went to find her own family. 

Arthur was already asleep. To Ginny's consternation, the Sword of Gryffindor was mounted over his bed. Ginny had seen Minerva leave with it, so she didn't know how, when or why it returned. Never in hers and Harry's wildest dreams would they imagine their second son would grow up to become one of the greatest, most powerful wizards of all time. 

“I'll watch over him tonight,” said Lily softly, from a frame by the bed. “James is watching over the elder two.”

“Thank you,” said Ginny, gratefully. She smoothed the messy hair away from Arthur's forehead, and kissed him lightly. “Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered. 

Next she went to her firstborn's room. He'd fallen asleep in his jacket. “Going to make a fine Lord of Stinchcombe, this one,” smiled James proudly. He and Fleamont were watching over James. 

“Well, he's got three great men to learn from, two former Lord's and the current one,” reminded Ginny. 

Fleamont nodded proudly. “Still, never saw my James or Harry take to the role like young James has. He'll do our island proud when it's his time.”

Ginny removed James' hat. “Goodnight, my darling,” she whispered, putting a light kiss on his cheek. 

James mumbled and rolled over. Ginny tucked the covers around him and left his room, after nodding to Fleamont and James. 

She was heading to her daughter's room, when she heard Harry's voice. He was reading his daughter a fairy tale. As much as he enjoyed his duties as Lord of Stinchcombe, and helping the townspeople as much as he could, nothing made him happier than being with his children. Only with them and her, did he know true happiness. She lingered in the doorway, listening. 

“Daddy, why did the evil witch cast a mean spell on the hero? Why did she make him lose his family and everybody he cares about?” asked Lily. She loved the story about the island being covered by fog, until a beautiful witch visited, fell in love with the hero and broke the curse. Matthew and Heston seemed to be embellish it every time they told her. 

“Because the evil witch never had anybody she loved. She let the darkness into her heart and then she wanted to make everyone as unhappy as she was,” said Harry gently, stroking her coppery hair, so much like Ginny's. His Lily Luna also had her mother's brown eyes. 

“That's sad,” said Lily, thinking. “So we should all love everybody, and help them and be nice?”

“Yes,” nodded Harry. 

“Even when James is being really annoying?” sighed Lily. 

“Yes,” chuckled Harry, “especially then.”

“Daddy, if someone gave her true love's kiss, would she become a nice witch?” asked Lily. 

“Maybe,” shrugged Harry, “but we'll never know.”

“I think she would,” decided Lily. “True love's kiss is the most important kiss in the whole world.”

“Do you know what else is important?” asked Ginny, deciding to join her husband and daughter.

“What?” asked Lily, expectantly. 

“A good night's sleep. We have a big day planned, taking all your cousins for a hike around the island,” reminded Ginny. 

“Your Mum's right. We'll be leaving right after breakfast,” said Harry, tucking her in. 

Lily yawned. “It was a nice party. Lucy really liked my school bag,” she said sleepily. 

Harry and Ginny kissed her softly and tucked her in. “Daddy?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” asked Harry. 

“P'raps me 'n you could make a potion to make people be nice to everybody,” she said sleepily. Lily liked to watch Harry in his workshop. 

“That's a wonderful idea, love. We'll talk about it more tomorrow. For now, sweet dreams, princess,” said Harry softly. He caught his grandmother's eye from her frame and nodded, knowing his daughter was being watched over. 

He joined Ginny in the hall and the two embraced. “It's been quite a day,” he said to her, taking her in his arms. 

Ginny relaxed in his embrace. “Harry...Arthur, the sword? Why would it return to him? We saw Minerva take it when she left. What could he possibly need it for?” she asked worriedly. 

He kissed her forehead. “We'll worry about it tomorrow. For now, we still have guests downstairs.”

Ginny snorted. “They're not guests, they're my family.”

He chuckled, now quite used to the rambunctious Weasleys. “You know your mum is dying to ask you about this one,” he murmured, running his hands over the slight swell of her tummy. 

“Let's see, we've already got the next Lord of Stinchcombe, a future potioneer, and a wizard that has the Sword of Gryffindor. What could this one possibly be?” pondered Ginny, placing her hand over Harry's. 

“Like all our children, a blessing,” said Harry. 

“A blessing,” agreed Ginny, as she brought Harry's face down to hers so she could kiss him. 

“Ahem,” interrupted Fleamont. “There are guests waiting for you downstairs,” he reminded them, albeit with a twinkle in his eye. He left his frame to go back to talk with James as they watched over younger James. 

Harry and Ginny reluctantly pulled away from each other. “Half an hour, and I'll start yawning. Mum will have me packed up and off to bed in no time,” she said to Harry, as they went to rejoin their guests. “She'll suggest we all head to bed, as we have an early start in the morning.”

“Let's hope so,” said Harry huskily. He stopped on the landing and pulled her close. “Then we can celebrate your birthday in our own special way, like we did this morning.”

As predicted, Molly did monopolise the talk on her future grandchild. Ginny's sisters-in-law, having congratulated her and Harry, sat back contentedly. Harry's brothers-in-law ushered him to the salon, to toast him with Firewhiskey and to enquire about the state of the island they had all come to look forward to visiting. It had become a home away from home for all of them. 

Soon enough, Ginny began yawning. Molly quickly summoned Harry to take Ginny upstairs to bed straight away, also ushering her other children and their spouses. Ensuring Dobby was able to handle the last of the clean up, she and Arthur were the last to head up to their rooms. 

Harry and Ginny did not hesitate to take advantage over their early to bed ruling. After celebrating Ginny's birthday, Harry lay contentedly, stroking her belly. “I think it's a girl,” he finally said. 

Ginny, sated and sleepy, tiredly agreed. “I was thinking...Merida.”

“Merida...Merida Potter,” said Harry, rolling it over his tongue. 

“I considered Minerva,” said Ginny, trying to stifle a yawn, “but I liked Merida better. It's a good strong name.”

“Well, she'll need to be strong to keep up with out lot,” chuckled Harry, proudly. He lifted his head to kiss Ginny lightly. “Go to sleep, love.”

“Mmmm,” agreed Ginny, practically already there. 

Their fourth child was indeed, a girl they called Merida Molly. Strong willed, mischievous yet kind to those in need. She was nicknamed Boo for awhile, as she liked to hide then jump out and surprise those looking for her. 

She was not one for school, despite being smart as a whip. She was often caught gazing out the window. She longed to be outside, and often didn't return to lessons after lunch. Sometimes she'd go to Matthew and Heston's, where she'd be pampered and fed cake. Or she'd venture up the hill, to the fountain. She'd lay in the grass, under the sun, watching the clouds roll by. Sometimes she'd fall asleep. Sometimes, if the Scamanders were home, she'd be found there, listening to Luna about her travels around the world, helping creatures in need. 

It was Sirius who gave her a bow and arrow. It was her older brother Arthur who taught her to fight with a sword. It was her eldest brother, James, who taught her politics, and right and wrong. It was her sister, Lily who taught her all the things an elder sister shared with her younger sister. It was her godmother, Luna who told her of the wonders to be found in the world, to not only look, but to actually see what others couldn't. 

It was her parents that taught Meri and her siblings the power of true love. For they truly embodied the gift of love, and the power it harnessed. Their father never failed to remind any of them that he wouldn't be half the man he was today, if it hadn't been for Ginny. They set the bar high for their children.

Two Potter children remained to live on the island. In later years, Harry was happy to hand over the reins to his son, knowing their island home, prospering and thriving, was in good hands with James, who loved the island and it's people. 

Lily too, still lived on the island, even as she was renowned throughout England as a premier potioneer. She found love with Teddy, who took over from his father as teacher at Stinchcombe Elementary. 

Harry and Ginny's two youngest travelled the world, righting wrongs and helping those in need. Arthur had studied as an Unspeakable after Hogwarts, to learn all about magic and it's components. After seven years he became bored with study and went out into the world to use his magic for good. He found love with Rolf and Luna's daughter, Guinevere, named for Arthur's own mother. They were as happy as Arthur's own parents. 

Merida, not one for study and learning, left her island home after graduating from Hogwarts. Like her mother, she was a people person, and made friends all over the world. However, disillusioned by people's greed and selfish ways, she found an affinity with animals and creatures, spending time with Lorcan and Lancelot Scamander, continuing on their family legacy of protecting endangered creatures and educating the wizarding world about them. She eventually married Lancelot. 

Harry and Ginny shared an idyllic life. Helping the people of Stinchcombe Island, raising their children to become selfless, caring wizards and witches, content to share their lives together. After their children had grown older, and James had become the new Lord of Stichcombe, Harry and Ginny had travelled the world. But never did they find a place that meant more to them than their small island, and never were they more happy than when all their children were home, even if for Artie and Meri, it was simply a visit. 

But all that was still to come. For now, Harry watched Ginny sleep as he caressed the tight skin over her belly. Wishing, hoping and praying, as he had done with the other three, for a healthy child, boy or girl. Watching the woman he loved sleep as the babe inside her grew. As he followed her into sleep, he again thanked a higher power for sending her to the island all those years ago. Sending her to him, so they could both heal and find love. 

For it truly was the most powerful magic in the world. 

 

Tale as old as Time, tune as old as song  
Bitter sweet and strange, finding you can change   
Learning you were wrong. 

Tale as old as Time  
Song as old as rhyme  
Beauty and the Beast. 

~finite~


End file.
